


Umbra

by DancingKirby



Series: Azula Overcomes [6]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: A little fluff as well, Ableism, Alcoholism, Bittersweet Ending, Blood, Drugging, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Grimdark, Grooming, Hopefully no expectations subverted, Miscarriage, Parent/Child Incest, Physical Abuse, Rationalization, Self-blaming, Size Difference, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Teen Pregnancy, Traumatic childbirth, Underage Drinking, Unreliable Narrator, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:14:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 68,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26290936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingKirby/pseuds/DancingKirby
Summary: Four of Ozai's ladies during the Day of Black Sun, and how they got there.
Relationships: Azula/Ozai (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Neithersided OFC/OFC, Onesided Zuko/OFC, Ozai/OFCs
Series: Azula Overcomes [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1263122
Comments: 39
Kudos: 63





	1. Azula I

**Author's Note:**

> It's been almost exactly a month since I got this fic idea, and I can't wait any longer to start posting; I'm so excited! I've completed at least rough drafts for the first seven chapters, and am working on the eighth.
> 
> So the way this'll work is that there are 4 PoV characters: Azula and 3 OCs. Each character will get 3 chapters, plus there'll be an epilogue, for a total of 13 chapters plus a brief appendix. Each chapter will be divided into flashbacks from the past, and then what they're actually doing during the DoBS. I have tried to order these chapters as linearly as possible, but there will be some stuff that happens out of order/overlaps.
> 
> The good part of having so many chapters done is that I have a pretty big cushion. The bad part is, I really liked how Chapter 5 turned out and I wanna post it now! :(
> 
> WARNING: Blood/menstruation and incest.

**PAST**

She was eleven, and about to die of embarrassment.

It had seemed like just another routine sunrise firebending practice on the balcony. Halfway through, however, Azula began to feel awful; her head and stomach and back were all killing her. She managed to finish the whole routine by sheer force of will. Then, when she walked back into her room and shucked off her sweaty training gear, she saw the blood.

She didn’t freak out. She wasn’t stupid; she knew what this meant. It was just a bit earlier than she had expected. Last school year, all of the fifth graders at the Royal Fire Academy For Girls had gone to the assembly hall to see a rather condescending presentation about puberty (no puppet show this time, thankfully). “The average age of menarche is twelve and a half years,” they had said. But she was eleven years and one month, and here it was anyway. She’d reached every other developmental milestone early, so she supposed it made sense.

Unfortunately, Shiza chose that moment to enter the room with Azula’s morning protein smoothie; her high-waisted gown failing to hide the fact that she was growing stout around the middle _again_. She made a little squeak of surprise, hastily set down the smoothie in its habitual place on Azula’s night table, and scurried over asking a million questions. _Are you okay? Are you scared? Do you know what’s going on? Are you in any pain? Do you need any help?_

“Go away. And don’t tell anyone,” Azula growled. Her lady-in-waiting’s breathy, high-pitched voice was only making her headache worse. She was not in the least bit scared, and was perfectly capable of dealing with this herself. Her school had handed out samples of the necessary equipment after the presentation last year.

Shiza obediently bowed and backed out of the room as quickly as etiquette allowed.

 _She seemed genuinely worried about you_ , a voice in Azula’s head whispered. She immediately wrestled that thought into submission.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shiza may not have told anyone, but the laundresses were nosy gossips as always; despite Azula’s efforts, the whole Caldera seemed to know by the next day. Servants tiptoed around her like she was on her deathbed, and the severity of her symptoms and heavy flow had made it so she’d had to stay home from school for two days. 

Finally, nearly a week later, it was all over. Azula still felt somewhat weak from the blood loss, although she could never let anyone know that. Father sent for her, as she knew he would.

“It happened earlier than I anticipated…but now you are a woman grown,” he told her. “Now you can serve me in every way.”

Azula nodded and smiled, trying to will her heart to stop racing.

“Show me. I’m ready,” she said.

The pain was excruciating, although she never let her smile leave her face, and then she hemorrhaged and had had to stay in bed again while she received iron infusions. But it was worth it, for Father’s esteem.

**PRESENT**

Today, it was the day of the eclipse, and she would be serving Father in a different way.

She stood still, arms spread out at her sides, as Shiza’s gentle, experienced hands buttoned buttons, fastened hooks and snaps, and cinched straps. Her armor fell into place with a click, and the outfit was completed with the crucial sash to accentuate her trim waistline. 

Shiza brushed Azula’s hair, careful to not let it snag on the armor, and pulled it into a perfect topknot. She applied exactly two drops of scent to each side of Azula’s neck. Finally, after giving the cosmetic pots a quick stir to ensure that they weren’t separated or dried, she started on the makeup: foundation, powder to take away the shine and increase Azula’s natural paleness, lipstick red enough to make one’s eyes hurt, and just a touch of blush so she didn’t look _too_ pale. For the finishing touch, she applied Azula’s eyeliner using the dull edge of a large knife to make sure it was perfectly straight. Azula had requested that she do it this way; other people may have quailed at a weapon being so near their eyes, but not her. Even though the sharp edge was never used, it was kept honed to perfection for the sake of aesthetic.

Her work done, Shiza backed away and bowed, awaiting Azula’s next command. Long ago, Azula had come to accept that, despite how annoying she found Shiza, the diminutive young woman was her most competent lady-in-waiting. During important occasions such as this one, she was the only one whom Azula could rely upon completely to make her appearance flawless.

And better her than Naoko.

Normally, at this time of day her rooms were bustling with servants bringing in breakfast and preparing Azula’s morning bath and laying out articles of clothing and toiletries to make Shiza’s job easier. Today, though, it was just the two of them, and things were eerily quiet. 

“Thank you,” Azula said, finally breaking the silence. “You are dismissed.”

Shiza murmured her acknowledgement and bowed again. She seemed nervous today. Now that Azula was thinking about it, her lady-in-waiting had been acting oddly for some months now. Did she think that Azula didn’t know about her repeated trips to the harbor for excursions on that boat of hers?

She would have to look into that…tomorrow. Shiza would have to have a death wish to try anything today.

“You needn’t worry. We have had months to think this through, and are prepared for every eventuality,” Azula assured her. 

“Of course,” Shiza said. As Azula closed her eyes, running through the plan a final time, her lady-in-waiting put the makeup knife back in its sheath, carefully closed the special case designed specifically for it, and left. 

In Azula’s distracted state, she never noticed that, although the knife case was closed, the knife itself was absent.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soon, her Dai Li escort arrived to take her to the bunker. On their way there, they encountered the bastards, who would have their own room underground. 

Anshi, of course, was heading up the line. As soon as she saw Azula, she blew on the whistle that was always around her neck and ordered everyone to bow. 

Azula took the time to look them over. Behind Anshi, there were Ichiro and Zhilan; the latter was clutching her own baby to her chest. After them, neatly paired up, were Izumi and Ruanyu, Kenzo and Azen, Uzeko and Nozomi, and Lanying and Eri. 

Hold on…there were two missing. Upon Azula’s inquiry, Anshi explained, “Shiza took Zoren and Teza from the dormitory last night, Princess. She said that the Fire Lord had special plans for them.”

Hm. Neither Shiza nor Father mentioned this to her. That seemed suspicious too, although it was not unheard of for Father to change plans at the last minute. With another blow of Anshi’s whistle and a command for them to show Azula their best marching, the group set off.

Down and down and down they went, Azula leading the way, until they were in a special room that was below even the basement. From there, a creaky elevator would take them down one or two at a time. Azula noted that Father and Zuko were apparently already underground.

“What if the volcano blows up while we’re inside it?” the six-year-old Azen blurted out. Izumi burst into tears. The only nonbender in the dormitory, she was scared of her own shadow and mostly nonverbal. Azula would have considered her simple-minded if she hadn’t read some of her elegant and eloquent poetry. Despite being two and a half years Izumi’s junior, Ruanyu was obliged to take on the role of an older sibling as she patted Izumi’s hand.

Anshi replied, “It’s not going to blow up. Now pay attention…”

“I hafta go to the bathroom!” Nozomi interrupted.

“There’ll be one when we get there,” Anshi said while rubbing her temple. “As I was saying, please pay attention as I go through this one last time. The elevator will take the Princess down first, and then us. You must all stay with your buddies at all times, and absolutely no wandering off. When we are all down there, we will be taken to our room. Does everyone remember what to do if the enemy breaks into our room during the eclipse?”

“We kick their faces in!” Ruanyu said brightly. “And maybe other places too! Like their…”

“Thank you, Ruanyu,” Anshi said pointedly. “But yes, that is the general idea. Older buddies are responsible for protecting the younger ones. And…” her voice broke briefly as she glanced down, “You must all do exactly as I say when I say it, no questions asked.”

“What passionate Fire Nation citizens you all are,” Azula praised. Internally, however, her mind whirred into action. _Had Anshi figured it out?_ Just then, her escort tapped her shoulder; it was time for her to make her descent. She had no more time to think that over; now all her focus must be on the plan.

Even as far underground as they were, the elevator had a long way to go. After it stopped, she was escorted through a maze of hallways; the layout would be bewildering to anyone else, but Azula had memorized every detail long ago. 

The room she had been assigned was spacious, but bare of furnishings except a throne. No bathroom either; only chamber pots from Sozin’s day for the direst of emergencies. Anshi had lied about that so the kids wouldn’t panic. It was no matter to Azula, though. They’d only be here a few hours at most, and she was a big girl. She could hold it.

She crossed the room, sat down, and waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are wondering, the next Azula chapter won't be until Chapter 8, unfortunately. The third one is probably going to be Chapter 10 or 11; I haven't completely finished planning the 3rd act yet.


	2. Shiza I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to try to stick with a schedule of weekly updates on Fridays...as a reward for a long week of work, and also because "Fanfic Friday" sounds cool. 
> 
> The clans in this and the next chapter are from the Kyoshi books, BTW.
> 
> WARNING: Non-graphic rape scene.

**PAST**

She was fourteen, and not used to being the center of attention. She was just plain old Shiza: the youngest of five sisters, a nonbender, shy, and a petite four-foot-ten. Due to her stature and girlish voice, her sisters called her Flutterbat when they were being affectionate…and Ant Flea when they were not. 

Although her family was noble, a cadet branch of the Sei’naka clan, her father had fallen out of favor with Azulon when Shiza was just a baby. Therefore, they had been exiled from their Caldera estate to a much smaller house on an equally small, resource-poor island. Even the island that the main Sei’naka family called home looked large in comparison to this one.

All in all, it wasn’t a bad place to live, since it was right near a beach, and the family had their own boat. Shiza had had a love of water instilled in her since she could remember. However, life tended to be dreadfully uneventful here otherwise, especially since Shiza’s three oldest sisters had married and moved into the homes of their husbands. Now the only occupants of the home were Shiza, her sister Rin, and their parents. The latter had always been emotionally distant, so no one really talked to anyone much. Shiza had never been good at making friends outside the house either. 

But then, suddenly, Azulon was dead, and they had received a letter calling them back to their former status. The new Fire Lord had specifically requested that Shiza and Rin come to court to serve as ladies-in-waiting to the Princess Azula. Shiza squealed in joy as her father read the letter aloud to the family.

Of course, it was Rin that the family had their hopes focused on. She was seventeen, the beauty of the family, a firebender, and highly intelligent. The Fire Lord was newly unmarried; apparently his wife had run off on him. Therefore, if they played their tiles right, he just might honor their family by choosing Rin as his Fire Lady. If they ever did encounter the Fire Lord, Shiza was under strict orders from her father to promote her sister’s virtues above all else. 

Shiza had never been close with her sister, and was often the recipient of Rin’s sharp tongue. She didn’t let that bother her now, though. She certainly had no designs on the position of Fire Lady for herself, and was just excited to finally see the world-renowned opulence and culture of the Royal Palace. Even better, she was getting an entirely new wardrobe suitable for life at court; her family had had to be frugal in exile, and her sisters had so many hand-me-downs that Shiza rarely got clothes made specifically for her.

On the day of departure, she was so wound-up that she couldn’t eat a thing at breakfast. Her mother’s repeated admonitions to “ _behave_ yourselves, girls!” scarcely registered. Even the journey there was exciting; the whole family got to ride on a boat to Capital Island, and then a train to the Caldera! Every single house there appeared to be larger than the one Shiza had grown up in. Shiza only got the briefest glimpse at her family’s old/new house, though; her parents had elected to send her and Rin to the palace immediately to begin their duties as ladies-in-waiting. It was located exactly in the center of the Caldera, and its central tower with the spire that appeared to pierce the sky was visible for miles.

When the palanquin deposited the two of them at the front door, Shiza stood completely still, in awe of the sheer size of the building, until an exasperated Rin dragged her off to their orientation. This began with a tour of the interior, and Shiza continued to be thunderstruck. She couldn’t help but gasp every time she saw yet another beautiful thing. Here was a garden with trees at their peak autumn colors; there was an exquisite mosaic of Sozin’s comet that took up an entire wall. This was going to be their _home_! It was true, as Rin pointed out, that their living quarters would be in a somewhat less glamorous area of the building. However, just knowing that all of this was walking distance from their quarters was _amazing_.

It was past sundown by the time their orientation was completed and they were shown to their small shared room. After a quick cold supper, they immediately got dressed to court specifications and reported to the princess to begin work. Shiza’s heart skipped a beat when, after close to an hour of waiting in the antechamber, an attendant opened the door and nodded them in.

They walked in and prostrated themselves before the princess, as they had practiced for hours on end during the journey to the palace. When the princess bid them rise, Shiza saw a little girl, clad in a sleeping robe and sitting at her vanity table as a lady brushed out her hair. She was also… _tiny_. Shiza was aware that the princess had only just turned nine, but she looked closer to six. With the already fearsome reputation Princess Azula had, Shiza supposed she’d been expecting someone a little older-looking. But she felt a sense of kinship with the princess despite herself; she knew what it was like to be the smallest person in the room. 

“Well? Are you two going to just stand there staring at me the whole night? Or are you going to make yourselves useful?” the princess demanded. 

Shiza jerked her eyes away in shame. Rin, unruffled as ever, said, “Of course. What would you like us to do, Your Highness?”

“You may turn back the sheets on my bed,” Azula ordered. “And _you_ …”–speaking to Shiza–“will wait at the door for them to bring my herbal tea, and deliver it to me.”

Shiza did as the princess commanded. However, the next time the door opened, it was not the person with the tea. It was the Fire Lord’s manservant, here to announce that the man himself had decided to pay an impromptu visit to his daughter.

Everyone in the room, even the princess, fell to their hands and knees so effortlessly that it almost looked like a dance. Shiza was paralyzed with nerves at first. She had certainly not been expecting to encounter the Fire Lord on her very first night here! However, she managed to get down with the others just in time. 

She knew she wasn’t supposed to look, but she managed a quick peep, and saw large boots walking past her. Then he bid the princess to rise, and started asking about her day. His voice sent a chill up Shiza’s spine. It was low and raspy, like smoldering embers.

They all waited as Azula told a story about how she’d “punished” a classmate at her school for asking too many dumb questions in class. When she was done, the other ladies in the room were finally allowed to get to their feet as well.

“New faces here, I see,” the Fire Lord remarked. “You must be those two Sei’naka girls.”

“Yes, Fire Lord,” Rin said, sounding remarkably calm and composed. 

“T-this is my sister, Rin,” Shiza said as she’d been instructed. 

Rin smiled and opened her mouth to speak again, but the Fire Lord just waved his hand in dismissal.

“Yes, yes,” he said. “But what is _your_ name, my sweet?”

He was looking right at her. Wait, _what_? This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! Why would he ever pay any attention to her when her much more glamorous sister was right there? Her parents hadn’t told her what to do if this happened. But a direct question from the Fire Lord could not go unanswered; she knew that much.

“Sh-Shiza,” she whispered, her gaze never leaving the floor. 

“I’m sorry? I didn’t quite catch that. Don’t mumble so.”

She repeated it, marginally louder this time.

“Shiza.” Her boring old name sounded a lot more thrilling when he said it. “Look at me.”

So Shiza looked up, and up, and up some more. She hadn’t been expecting him to be so tall. The top of her head didn’t even reach the shoulder spikes on his mantle. And…she gulped as she finally saw his face, and realized that he was also devastatingly handsome. Even with his complicated layers of clothing, she could sense how muscular he was. He seemed almost superhuman in his presence; just as she believed a Fire Lord should be. 

The Fire Lord, meanwhile, gave her a quick once-over and a nod. 

“Ladies, you are dismissed,” he addressed everyone as though nothing had happened. “I would like to speak with my daughter in private.” 

Shiza had almost forgotten that there were other people in the room, they had been so quiet. But as soon as they all had bowed again and backed out the door, everyone erupted into chatter. And it seemed like they were all talking about _her_. 

She snuck a glance at her sister; although Rin looked outwardly composed, her eyes were black with rage. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“ _What. Was. That_?” Rin hissed once they were back in the small room they shared.

“I don’t know! Honest!” Shiza squeaked. “I tried to talk about you…”

“Well, try harder next time,” Rin cut in. “This is my time, and I’m not about to let you ruin it. You’re still a child…and you look even younger than you actually are. How could the Fire Lord possibly be interested in you?"

Shiza reiterated, “I don’t know. Good night, Rin.”

Rin unlit the lamps and got into bed without a response, turning to face the opposite wall. It was only as Shiza was drifting off that she realized she had never given the princess her tea. She hoped that she wouldn’t get in trouble.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

As it turned out, she did not. Nevertheless, being a lady-in-waiting was hard work, especially when one had as demanding a mistress as Princess Azula. Anyone who made the slightest mistake on anything would receive a vicious tongue-lashing from the little princess. The workday began at sunrise and lasted until Azula fell asleep. The latter could be very late indeed as the girl often suffered from insomnia, particularly after one of the Fire Lord’s visits. The nightly herbal tea was actually a calming blend that was supposed to help with that.

Shiza initially thought that she would be so busy that she wouldn’t see the Fire Lord again for a long time. But then things started to get weird. Nearly every day, whether she was in the garden cutting flowers for the Princess’s room, or taking food requests down to the kitchen, or even snatching a few precious seconds of free time, there he was.

He always asked what she was doing, even though her routine didn’t vary much. And no matter how much Shiza tried to steer the conversation back to her sister, the Fire Lord never seemed interested.

“I don’t want to hear more about your sister. I want to hear about _you_ ,” he finally said, about a week after Shiza’s arrival at the palace. He’d once again caught her in an isolated part of the garden while she was on a flower run.

“But my parents…they told me…” Shiza had to break off and hold her bouquet of chrysanthemums over her face to hide her flushed cheeks.

“And I am Fire Lord,” the Fire Lord replied. “What I say goes. I have the power to overrule anyone in this country…including your parents.”

“Mysisterwillbemad,” Shiza said in a rush. 

The Fire Lord sighed. “ _What_ have I told you about mumbling?”

His voice had suddenly turned terrifying. She backed away a step, but he put a hand on her shoulder before she could go any further.

“You are far more interesting than your sister,” he stated, the scariness gone again. 

“M-me? Interesting?” Shiza managed to get out.

With his free hand, the Fire Lord tilted Shiza’s chin up so that she was once again looking into those intense eyes. When he spoke next, his voice had an almost hypnotic quality to it.

“I know exactly how you feel…constantly being shunted aside for an older sibling who your parents think is more deserving. All my life, I suffered in the shadow of my incompetent older brother. But my father finally saw reason, and named me his heir on his deathbed. You too could blossom if given the right opportunity. Shallow flatterers like your sister are a copper a dozen. _You_ are not. You are pure and fresh; a welcome respite from all the tiresome court intrigue I have to put up with.”

This was all happening too quickly for Shiza to properly process. The Fire Lord–the most important man in the world–was touching _her_ , the supremely unimportant little Flutterbat! And…and he knew what she was going through! She wasn’t alone!

It was at that moment that she heard Rin’s voice calling for her in the distance.

“I have to leave,” she told the Fire Lord.

“Of course,” he replied. He released his hold on Shiza, but to her delight, brought her hand to his lips and kissed it as farewell.

Rin’s multiple queries as to why Shiza was blushing like that were left unanswered.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

For the next two weeks, Shiza was walking on air. She was the recipient of the Fire Lord’s attention. _She_ was special for the first time in her life. He kissed her hand again, many more times, and once had even kissed her forehead! Maybe…maybe _she’d_ even be the next Fire Lady one day, and not Rin! Yes, once or twice she thought that it was a little weird that he was so much older than her, but he didn’t _look_ old. The one time she brought it up with him, he waved it off and said, “But you’re so mature for your age.”

During their chats, the Fire Lord asked a lot of questions about her, such as: How is your relationship with your family? Which foods do you like? What are your interests? What education have you gotten? Do you have any friends? Do you have a boyfriend? Some of the questions made Shiza feel nervous, but she answered them all to the best of her ability. He started giving her little presents too: trinkets, and hair ribbons, and treats snuck from the kitchen. Shiza loved whatever he gave her, of course, and said so effusively. But late one night, he had an extra-special surprise for her. 

Azula had been having extreme difficulty falling asleep, despite taking her calming tea. Shiza had been obliged to send word to Dr. Huang, the royal physician, to make up a stronger sleeping draught. On her way back to Azula’s rooms, she heard footsteps behind her.

“Guess who?” asked a by now very familiar voice. Before Shiza had time to answer, she felt hands placing something heavy and metallic around her neck, fastening it in the back. She curiously lifted a section of it up. The light in the hallway was dim, but she could make out gold and pearls and…were those rubies?

“May I have more light, please?” she asked. The Fire Lord obliged, raising all of the torches to their full capacity. 

Shiza gasped as the full magnificence of the necklace (or maybe more of a collar?) came into view. The gold had been worked into intricate loops and scrolls, with rubies the size of her thumbnail in the middle of each loop. Teardrop pearls hung from the bottom of the necklace. 

She, who loved pretty things, was overwhelmed by the beauty of it. As someone whose parents only allowed her to wear plain gold chain necklaces and small earrings, she couldn’t believe that something so magnificent as this was touching her own skin. Not even her three married sisters, who were permitted more finery, owned anything nearly this rich. This was truly a woman’s necklace...no, it was a _Fire Lady’s_ necklace. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how much it must have cost. 

“Well? Do you like it?” The Fire Lord inquired, still standing behind her. He nibbled Shiza’s earlobe, which sent figurative sparks flying throughout her body.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Shiza answered completely honestly. “This isn’t a joke, is it? Is this really _mine_?”

“Of course. I had it specially made. Only the best for a girl like you.”

She finally turned to face him.

“Th-thank you,” she said as she bowed. “I love it. But…I don’t know what I could ever possibly do to deserve this…”

“ _I_ do,” the Fire Lord interjected. Without another word, he picked her up like she weighed nothing. Once their faces were level, he captured her lips with his and kissed her passionately.

Shiza moaned and clung tight onto his neck. It felt like he was pouring some of his firebending directly into her veins. The heat spread throughout her body, eventually settling into a part of her that proper unmarried ladies were never ever supposed to think about except in the context of personal hygiene. She whined in disappointment when the Fire Lord finally broke the kiss.

“Innocent little thing,” he remarked. “You have no idea of the effect you have on me, do you?”

“ _Fire Lord…_ ” she protested, so occupied with the missing stimulation that she didn’t really comprehend his words.

He shook his head. “You may call me by my given name when we are alone.”

_What was his given name again…?_

“Ozai?” she ventured; this felt so surreal. 

“Yes?” He shifted his hand so that it was lying on one of her breasts and began to stroke; Shiza thought that this felt even better than the kissing. She only hoped that he wouldn’t think they were too small.

“I…”– her face was probably around the same color as her outfit by now–“I want..” She couldn’t quite find the right words.

“Do you want _more?_ ” the Fire L…Ozai prompted as his other hand brushed her thigh. Shiza gave a barely perceptible nod and buried her face in his robes.

“Excellent,” he said. “Should we go somewhere more private?”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Somewhere more private” turned out to be Ozai’s bedroom. It was enormous and sumptuously furnished, although Shiza didn’t currently have the wherewithal to admire it properly. He promptly threw her onto the bed, which in and of itself was nearly as big as her childhood bedroom. She giggled, giving the mattress a little test bounce and finding it exceedingly comfortable. Something about this made Ozai get a very weird look in his eyes, and he leapt on her like a saber-tooth moose lion would pounce on its prey. 

Shiza didn’t like what happened next as much as she thought she would. Everything went so fast. One minute it was kissing and touching which felt really good, and the next, her clothes were all gone and Ozai was on top of her, nudging her legs apart with his knee and holding his hand over her mouth to muffle her confused cries of _wait_ and _please_ and _what are you doing?_ Eventually, she had no words left, and all that she was capable of were sobs of pain.

Later, Ozai drifted off to sleep with Shiza tightly ensconced in his arms, and she wiped her tears away and thought. It was mostly her own fault, really, she decided. Her mother had told her how babies were made when she’d had her first blood a year ago, and she’d heard smatterings of gossip from her sisters and “borrowed” their romance novels. She should have known that this was what he had meant by “more”. And she should have tried harder to relax as he instructed her; he’d told her that it would hurt more if she was all tense, and he’d been right. 

The next time would be better, Shiza told herself. Now she knew what to expect. Other than some not-very-detailed anatomical diagrams, she hadn’t really had a concept of what a naked man actually looked like, and had gotten terrified when she saw how big _it_ was. She would not repeat that mistake. Plus, even this hadn’t been all bad. The before and after parts had been nice, and Ozai had certainly seemed to enjoy it. He’d muttered, “That felt good” right after, and had even commented favorably on how “tight” she was, although she wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. The important part was, she had made him happy.

She already knew she loved him. He needed her; that much was clear to her. Yes, he was rough around the edges, but he’d never had anyone to set him a good example. No one had ever understood him and cared about him like she did. What was more, being a new Fire Lord would be overwhelming for anyone, but he hadn’t even known he was going to inherit the title until the last minute. All that he required was someone to be patient and gentle with him; to settle his nerves and show him the right way, just like in her sisters’ books. And she intended that someone to be her. 

_Fire Lady Shiza the Good_ , she thought as her own eyes began to get heavy. _The woman who saved Fire Lord Ozai from himself._

**PRESENT**

Shiza stopped in front of the door to her suite of rooms, took a breath, and put a smile on her face before opening the door.

“Gooood morning, darlings! Rise and shine!” she said as she knocked on the doorframe of her sons’ bedroom. She hoped that she at least sounded cheerful enough to pass the muster of a three-year-old and a four-year-old. When she entered the bedroom, she saw that Teza, the younger, was sitting up in bed, while her firstborn Zoren opened his eyes only the tiniest sliver before closing them again.

“Well, someone’s a sleepyhead today!” Shiza exclaimed. “Wait! What’s that I hear? Could it be…the _Tickle Monster?!_ ”

The Tickle Monster went to work on Zoren, making appropriate sound effects, as he squirmed and laughed, until he finally sat up as well.

“I want Tickle Monster too!” Teza insisted. Shiza obliged him. After a few minutes, though, her hands started getting tired, so she told the boys that the Tickle Monster had to go home to be with its own kids. 

Shiza felt a burst of affection as she looked down at her two giggling sons and kissed each of them on the top of the head. Sunny, precocious Zoren and quiet, clingy Teza; they complemented each other well. She loved being silly with her boys, and knew they loved it too. Life in the dormitory was so regimented that their weekly overnight stays with her were one of the few times that they could truly be themselves. Shiza refused to even have any nurses around to get between her and her children on those days. Who would have ever guessed four and a half years ago that the terrified not-quite-sixteen-year-old her would turn out to actually be competent at this whole Mommy business?

It started out like such a normal day. She assisted Teza in the bathroom, congratulating him for staying dry all night. (Zoren usually didn’t need her help, and was proud that he could go all on his own like a “big boy.”) Breakfast was a quick, simple meal of steamed buns and fruit that Shiza had pilfered from the kitchen the night before. Then she was on dressing duty once again, helping arms get into sleeves and getting shoes put on the right feet. She had selected unadorned clothing and sturdy boots for the boys, but she herself remained in her court dress. The full skirts were an important part of her plan.

“Did you brush all your teeth?” she asked Zoren as she combed Teza’s hair. He showed her his sparkling baby teeth in a big grin. 

“Good boy!” she praised. “Now let me get your hair, too.”

Once both boys were fully dressed, clean, and tidy, Shiza knelt before them and took one hand of each. _How was she supposed to say this?_ They were still at the stage where they saw her as all-seeing and all-knowing. How would she be able to keep from them that she didn’t have a clue what she was doing?

“We’re going to do something special today,” she began.

“Are we gonna go see Prince Zuko?” Zoren piped up, his eyes eager. He loved Zuko, whom he strongly resembled, and the courtiers always got a laugh from seeing a miniature, unmarked version of the prince following him around. Teza, however, hadn’t been able to get past the scar yet.

“No,” she told him. “We are going on a big trip, with a lot of walking, and it might be very scary. Zoren, are you going to be able to be a big, grownup boy and help with your little brother?”

He nodded solemnly. It was strange, thinking about how he was only sixteen months older than Teza; the age gap often seemed much bigger. She felt absolutely awful putting that kind of responsibility on him, and was aware she may be risking all of their lives, but she had no other choice.

It was either this, or possibly never seeing one of her children again…


	3. Naoko I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy weekend to everyone! :D Except for me because I have to work! D: But I was determined to stick to my update schedule anyway. 
> 
> WARNINGS: A scene of what would legally be considered rape, although the OC doesn't see it that way.

**PAST**

She was sixteen, and used to getting her own way. Naoko was a member of the proud and wealthy Keohso clan. They didn’t have the same political clout that they’d had before the Fire Lords centralized their power, but there were other ways of gaining influence. Their family had long been known for providing men of the royal family with beautiful wives and concubines, including Crown Princess Sulan and Fire Lady Zaya. More recently, Naoko’s own aunt Anza had been mistress to the Fire Lord when he had been just a young prince. 

Naoko was the only offspring of her parents, and her father sat on the Fire Lord’s council as the Minister of Agriculture. As a child, she had been given anything and everything she demanded, and didn’t care who she might have to hurt to get it. This latest object of her desire, however, had proven more elusive.

She had been thirteen when she had been invited to participate in a dance ceremony for the Fire Lord, along with dozens of other wealthy girls in their early and mid-teens. Naoko had felt little reverence for the old man himself; he could barely even stay awake during their performance. It was only during the reception afterwards that she had met the man of her dreams.

As soon as she and her father got home, she turned to him and said, “I’m marrying Prince Ozai.” She’d felt drawn to the Fire Lord’s second son even from a distance. Then, at the reception, he had been going down the line of girls to welcome them to the palace, and he’d smiled at her and told her she had beautiful hair. And he hadn’t said that to any other girl; Naoko had been paying close attention.

Father chuckled.

“Your ambition is admirable,” he told her. “There is just one small problem. Prince Ozai is already married.”

Naoko scoffed. “He hates his wife and hasn’t slept with her in years. Everyone says so.” In fact, “everyone” had been two old servant ladies she’d overheard gossiping, but Father didn’t need to know that. Her family had good reason to dislike Ursa anyway. Ozai had by all appearances been on the brink of proposing to Anza when, to the complete bewilderment of everyone, Azulon had instead married him off to the daughter of a farmer from some tiny village in the middle of nowhere. 

Father agreed, “He can do better. Much better. We’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”

Naoko wrinkled her nose. “ _Wait and see._ You sound like an earthbender.” But she had no choice for now, and she knew it. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

She had just turned fifteen the morning they received the glorious news that Ozai had ascended the throne. What was more, his wife was nowhere to be found! However, it soon became clear that the new Fire Lord did things differently. A few men had already approached him pressing the virtues of their daughters, only to get laughed out of the throne room. No, not just any pretty face from a good family would do. If Ozai were to be tempted into marriage, the potential mate would have to prove herself to him first. And Naoko was prepared to do whatever it took. She always got what she wanted. Always.

First, though, they had to deal with the problem of the Fire Lord’s current favorite. 

“You needn’t worry,” Father told Naoko. “I have met the Lady Shiza. She is immature, unintelligent, and painfully shy. She is not, nor will she ever be, Fire Lady material. The Fire Lord obviously wanted someone unchallenging to distract him from the stress of his new position. He will grow tired of her soon enough, I can guarantee that.”

As they waited some more, Naoko grew into nearly-full maturity, and was aware that she was already turning heads. She had reached an impressive height of five feet and nine inches. Her hair, of which Ozai had been so enamored, was the Keohso clan’s trademark auburn and reached down to her waist. Her complexion was flawless and fashionably pale. But she was no dainty flower; she had an hourglass figure, featuring what Mother referred to as “childbearing hips.” Her days were filled with finishing up her education at the Royal Fire Academy for girls, learning the finer points of both combat and court etiquette.

Finally, a year and a half into Ozai’s reign, they had their chance. Shiza had successfully borne the Fire Lord a child, but her recovery had been protracted. No one could stop Ozai from continuing to play with barely pubescent girls if he was so inclined, but he needed a strong woman as consort, which Shiza was definitely not.

Shortly before Naoko was to depart for the palace, her mother visited her bedroom for some surreptitious last-minute advice on how to please a man in bed, and _this_ man in particular. 

“You must be receptive, but not too eager; we don’t want to give the impression that you are anything but untouched,” Mother cautioned. “ _Never_ argue with him; he is a man who does not like to be crossed. And I would advise you to try to conceive as quickly as possible. We want to show him that you can produce healthy children, and…well…”–she paused– “Rumor has it that he has a _thing_ about pregnancy, if you know what I mean.”

“I won’t let you and Father down,” Naoko promised. Mother embraced her.

“It’s not going to be easy,” she said. “The Fire Lord is not one for commitment, and you should not expect him to be faithful to you. To be honest, I…well, never mind. If anyone can win him over, it would be you.”

“Mother, it was never a matter of _can_ ,” Naoko corrected. “It’s a matter of _will_.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Naoko made her court debut at a banquet welcoming Captain Zhao back from the colonies. Father steered her toward the Fire Lord as he was making his rounds after the meal.

“Ah! Shoren!” the Fire Lord said; he appeared to be a little inebriated. “I see you’re back from Shuhon. How go things there?”

“Things are going well. The rice crop has been planted, and we’re looking at a great harvest if this warm weather holds up. Also, we have cracked down hard on the pranksters in Fire Fountain City who were daring each other to climb up ladders and touch the statue in inappropriate ways. I don’t believe anyone will be trying that again anytime soon.”

“Yes, good,” the Fire Lord said, antsy to change the subject; it was well-known that any aspect of running the country other than war bored him quickly. “Are you going to introduce me to the young lady accompanying you?”

“Of course. This is my daughter Naoko.”

Naoko bowed. The neckline of her hanfu was low enough to give a tantalizing hint of her impressive cleavage, but not so low as to be tawdry.

“I believe I have met you before,” The Fire Lord said as Naoko rose.

“Yes, my lord,” Naoko confirmed. “At the dance ceremony three years ago. You said I had beautiful hair. And…I believe you know my aunt Anza?”

Something flashed in the Fire Lord’s eyes. “Indeed. It is a pleasure to get reacquainted with you.” He then walked off to speak with Zhao.

Later that night, Naoko was disappointed when Ozai didn’t send for her, but Father was pleased.

“It’s good that he didn’t want you on the first night,” he told her. “It means he’s taking time to think about it, and knows you’re not a common whore. If he calls on your services quickly, he will discard you just as quickly.”

“Yes, Father,” Naoko murmured. It felt a little odd, discussing her potential sex life with her father, but then again they were no ordinary family. What would be private topics for others were like talking about the weather for them.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ten days passed. While Naoko was supposed to be an attendant to the princess, the girl had taken an instant dislike to Naoko. Almost as soon as she’d risen from her bow and spoken initial words of flattery, Azula had banished her from her rooms and told her not to come back. So she didn’t have much to do except to get more and more wound up with anticipation for nightfall, only to be disappointed when nothing happened. 

Tonight had seemed as though it would be just like the others. Naoko had stayed up waiting, but it was getting late, and she had just been about to go to bed when the long-awaited knock came on her door. 

When she opened the door, the Fire Lord’s manservant informed her that the Fire Lord requested her presence in his rooms for drinks and a talk. A job interview, then…albeit a sexy one if things went according to plan. 

She dressed in the outfit that had been made for this occasion. The symbol of the Keohso family was, of course, the peony, and her hanfu had been made in that shade of pink. The outfit’s long train had been intricately cut and embroidered to make it look like a shower of flower petals was drifting in her wake. Her perfume was scented with peonies as well, and some dark pink lipstick and a matching hair ribbon finished the look off nicely.

Before she left, she went to her father’s apartments for a final inspection. He gave her a once-over and an approving nod. 

“Remember,” he said, “You are not to mention nor make any sort of allusion to the m-word. Or the l-word, for that matter. Tonight, you are there solely to please him.”

“Understood,” she told him. 

She and her escort had to get past a series of doors, each one guarded, before they reached the Fire Lord’s most private antechamber. When they got there, they found him sitting at a table, cups of sake both at his place and the one across from him.

“Do sit,” he said after he dismissed his servant and the doors were safely closed. Naoko did, making sure to arrange her skirts in a pleasing manner. A sudden fit of nerves made her heart flutter. This was the moment she had been dreaming of for three years.

“So,” the Fire Lord asked. “How do you find life at the palace?” He took a sip of his sake, then nodded at Naoko to show that it was all right to start drinking hers. 

“It takes getting used to,” Naoko said truthfully. “It’s beautiful, of course, but so big that I seem to manage to find a new way to get lost every single day.” She noted that her sake cup was unwarmed; obviously a test of her firebending skills, and one she passed without difficulty. She took a drink from her cup, and made a little cough of surprise as it burned going down. 

The Fire Lord smirked. “First time drinking that, eh?”

“Yes, Fire Lord. My parents would never let me have any.” Naoko hoped that her smile was just the right combination of self-deprecating and mischievous. 

“Anyway, I know what you mean,” he went on. “I spent much of my childhood at smaller estates, and whenever I was called back to the palace, I couldn’t remember where anything was. But one gets used to it.”

They continued this light chatter until they had both finished their first and second drinks, and were well into a third. 

“Enough small talk,” the Fire Lord said abruptly as he finished off his cup. “I trust that you know why you’re here.”

“Yes, Fire Lord,” Naoko answered.

He shook his head. “Ozai.”

“Yes, Ozai. Or…should I call you Uncle?” A little giggle slipped out. Sake was not so bad after all, once one got used to the taste of it. Naoko felt all warm and floaty and relaxed. 

Ozai raised an eyebrow.

“You are a bold one,” he commented. “I really have to work for it with other girls.”

“I’m not like other girls,” Naoko assured him. 

Ozai laughed. “What makes you think that?”

“Ever since we met three years ago, I have known that this was my destiny,” she said. Emboldened by the alcohol, she confessed, “Waiting was _torture._ ” 

She bit her lip after she said this. Had that been too forward? But Ozai rose and walked over to her, and she knew she had him. 

“Well then. It would be in poor taste to keep you waiting any longer then, wouldn’t it?” he inquired. Naoko wasn’t sure how to answer, but that didn’t matter, since he pulled her to her feet, grabbed her face, and kissed her before she could speak.

This kiss, and what followed after, was far from gentle. However, Naoko didn’t mind. She wanted him _so badly_ ; was already soaking wet for him when he’d scarcely even touched her (his words, not hers). Mother had said that it was going to hurt, and it did, but a lot less than what Naoko had been fearing. She cried out as Ozai entered her, somehow managed to keep up with his furious rhythm, and nearly _screamed_ as three years of tension was finally released. 

(She’d experimented with touching herself before when she was supposed to be sleeping, but that had mostly been an exercise in frustration. Nothing had ever felt like this.)

“You’re an enthusiastic little slut, aren’t you?” Ozai remarked afterwards. “You like it rough.”

Naoko wasn’t exactly sure why he was calling her a slut when there had been just enough blood to prove that this wasn’t true. But he was the Fire Lord, and he could call her whatever he pleased, particularly after that.

“Yes,” she said, playing along. “And I will be a slut for you again as many times as you want me to.”

_She’d done it._

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next evening, she showed up to dinner wearing a huge, dangling pair of diamond earrings that brushed against her shoulders…courtesy of Ozai, of course. As she sat down in the best seat of the next-highest table, still wincing a little bit, a young girl who looked like she’d recently been ill approached her.

“Um…excuse me, but you’re in my seat,” she said in a tiny little voice.

Naoko’s first thought was that this was one of Azula’s little friends.

“And what is your name, sweetie?” she asked in the most condescending voice she could manage.

The girl set her jaw. “I am Shiza of the Sei’naka clan.”

 _That was Shiza?_ Father hadn’t mentioned that she was so small. If his information about her birth date was correct, Shiza was only five months younger than Naoko…but it looked more like five _years_. With that ostentatious necklace and those flowing sleeves that almost covered her hands, the girl looked like nothing so much as a child playing dressup. Naoko had no doubt that many courtiers would have had problems keeping straight faces while this girl was waddling around with a huge belly.

As for the Sei’nakas…they were a minor noble family, whose only major claim to fame was that a girl from that family had been Avatar Kyoshi’s paramour almost 400 years ago.

“Well, Shiza of the Sei’naka clan…I hate to break it to you, but this is my seat now,” Naoko retorted. She moved her head so her earrings jangled. The confused and hurt look on Shiza’s face was priceless. 

“But…you…” she sputtered.

Father had been right. Shiza was _so_ stupid. What had Ozai been _thinking?_

“Yes, me. Now do stop bothering me, please. My soup is getting cold, and now I have to reheat it.”

The crestfallen girl wandered away. If this was to be Naoko’s competition, her path to becoming Fire Lady would be smooth indeed. 

**PRESENT**

“No, no, no, you idiot, you’re still not doing it correctly! It’s not high enough. Undo it and start it over,” Naoko demanded. Her maid glowered, but once again took Naoko’s hair out of its pile on the top of her head and restarted it. This time, she added in more swatches of artificial hair, and finally achieved the result Naoko had been looking for. A jeweled hairpin was perched on the very top to complete the look. 

Naoko wanted her appearance to be absolutely perfect today. After all, this was the day that she would win back the affections of the Fire Lord. The incidents last year had been…unfortunate, and she had to admit that she’d been taken aback when things didn’t go as she’d planned them, but things had been looking up for the past few months. She had been thrilled when she’d learned that she had been assigned a room in the bunker that shared a wall with Ozai’s. Why would he want to keep her that close unless a part of him still cared for her? 

She didn’t have to worry about Eri getting underfoot either, since her daughter was already being seen to by Anshi. When this silly invasion was thwarted and they were released from their rooms, Naoko was planning to be right there to give Ozai another kind of release. 

And no one was going to get in her way. Not even Azula.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Naoko is...interesting. There were times when I wanted to just grab her by the shoulders and shake her, even though I was the one writing it! LOL But she's just as much a victim as the others, and I hope I can make that clear in the latter two chapters...even if she herself doesn't realize it.
> 
> Oh, and her liking sex is _not_ part of what makes her a bad person...I was worried it might come across like that.


	4. Mizuki I

**PAST**

She was fifteen, and on top of her game. Mizuki had been helping her mother in the kitchen since she was four, and developed a passion and talent for it as she got older. When she was ten, she was able to cook a complete meal on her own. By the time she hit her teens, she was inventing her own recipes. Her cooking was renowned throughout the neighborhood, and she was particularly famous for her desserts.

At fourteen, she decided that she wanted to turn her skill into a career. Her father was in the military, and had risen to the rank of Lieutenant. This meant that they were comfortably middle class, and had a nice house that was walking distance from the royal plaza. But it was a risky occupation, and Mizuki wanted to be able to support her mother and younger brother if something were to happen to Dad. Daichi was only ten, after all, and Mom tended to fall into bouts of depression while Dad was gone. She was not always the most mentally present parent, and spent much of her time in bed. Sometimes, Mizuki kind of resented her, although felt awful about doing so.

At any rate, to get started on this pathway, Mizuki applied for, and was accepted at, the Fire Lady Ilah School of Culinary Arts, the most prestigious of its kind in the Fire Nation. She’d had a great first year there, getting all A’s and her first boyfriend. And then, towards the end of the school year, the teachers announced that the Royal Palace was holding its annual nationwide competition for culinary students ages fourteen to eighteen. The winner of this competition would be awarded with an eight-week summer internship in the palace’s own kitchens!

Mizuki had been making plans to apply for her first paying job at a restaurant this summer, but these arrangements were quickly shelved. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, she would work alongside some of the most talented chefs in the world, and–perhaps most importantly–it would look great on her resume. So she sent in an application. After a month, she received notice that she had been selected as a finalist. The next steps would consist of first a job interview, then a practical demonstration. 

She sailed through the interview, and now the original field of over a thousand applicants had been winnowed down to twenty-four people. As she waited her turn, she noted that the majority of these elite few were male and older than her. This did not bother her in the slightest. She was outgoing, fiercely competitive, motivated, calm under pressure…and a damn good cook. All those big strapping lads wouldn’t know what had hit them. 

They all had to make a dish in their field of interest. Since Mizuki was most interested in pastry work, her assigned dish was mooncakes, which were notoriously difficult to prepare. It was harder work than Mizuki had anticipated, and she almost panicked when her first crust dough didn’t come together properly. Thankfully, she was able to outwardly maintain composure, and had just enough time to toss it and start over. The second batch was perfect. 

The cakes came out of the oven looking and smelling wonderful, and Mizuki was confident that they would taste equally good. She was sore all over, covered with sweat, and exhilarated as she presented her work to the judges. Unfortunately, the actual evaluation would be conducted behind closed doors, so she wouldn’t be able to find out what they thought for a while.

The week before the school year ended, the fateful letter was in the mailbox when she arrived home. Feigning nonchalance, Mizuki went to her room, opened the letter, and read it. The nonchalance went out the window as she let out a whoop.

“I GOT THE JOB!” she shouted. Daichi ran in to congratulate her, and the two of them exchanged a victory chest bump. When they woke up Mom to tell her the good news, she was teary-eyed but beaming.

The days until her departure passed in a blur. Her boyfriend Jia, who had also tried for the internship but hadn’t gotten past the initial application, broke up with her, but Mizuki didn’t really mind. He was kind of a loser anyway. 

The night before Mizuki left, her mother had pulled herself together long enough to throw a going-away party, and her father had written her with his own good wishes. Then it was time to pack her trusty set of knives and set off for the train station the next day. 

“If you see the Fire Lord, tell me every detail!” Daichi reminded her. 

Mizuki ruffled her brother’s hair. “I doubt I’m going to see him; he’s a very busy man and I don’t think he goes down to the kitchens much. But if I do, I will tell you all about it.” Honestly, she’d never had the amount of reverence toward the man that a good Fire Nation citizen was supposed to; she’d had to suffer through countless visits to the principal’s office until she got old enough to hide it better. And even now, she and her friends often gathered around the Fire Lord’s portrait during class breaks to snicker at his silly beard when the teachers weren’t looking.

Mom added, “And be careful, honey, okay?”

“ _Careful?_ ” Mizuki repeated as she raised an eyebrow. 

“Well…it’s just that it’s probably going to be a male-dominated environment. And to be honest I’ve heard some bad rumors about what goes on in the palace…if anything untoward happens, I want you to get out of there immediately, understand?”

“Okay,” Mizuki agreed, but she was a little confused. She was a firebender…and she also had her knives. If there were any perverts in the kitchen, they weren’t going to take advantage of her _that_ easily.

Whatever the case, the train pulled into the station, so Mom didn’t have time to add anything else. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Mizuki disembarked at the palace, she was greeted by a woman who looked to be about ten years older than her.

“Hello! My name is Ayosa, and I’m the junior pastry chef here. We heard that this is your area of greatest expertise, so I’ll be your mentor this summer!” she said perkily. “I was so excited when I found out they’d chosen a girl to intern this year…the winners were all boys for the past four years in a row. We women shouldn’t be expected to just stay home and cook for our families, you know?”

Mizuki nodded and gave her best confident smile. “Exactly. I’m not scared of any big, loud, egotistical men.” 

Ayosa showed her first to the servants’ dormitory, where Mizuki would be sharing a room with three other women. After unpacking and changing into the palace’s uniform, Mizuki was taken directly to the kitchen to start working. 

This place was huge. Of course, Mizuki had known that it would be, but forget about fitting her family’s house in here…this could probably fit her full block! She guessed that she’d walk several miles a day simply getting from place to place in this one room. It was barely mid-afternoon, yet preparations for the evening meal appeared to be well underway. Steam billowed from dozens of enormous stockpots and rice cookers, and it seemed to Mizuki that every burner on every stove had been lit. She saw a chef stirring a different sauce with each hand simultaneously, giant haunches of meat and hundreds of ducks roasting on self-turning spits over open fires, and one poor sap cursing up a blue streak as he looked away from his wok for the briefest instant, only to find the contents burning when he turned back. 

Good thing these kitchens were reasonably well-ventilated. As it was, the heat and humidity and odors and noise nearly overwhelmed her.

But she wasn’t allowed stand and gawk for long. Almost as soon as she arrived, a man ran up and greeted her with, “Welcome to the palace. How are your knife skills?”

“Very proficient,” Mizuki replied. “I can cut with fire daggers too. My teachers say that…”

“Yes, yes, good,” the man cut in. “Because these strawberries aren’t going to slice themselves.” He guided her to a chopping block, where the biggest pile of the fruit that Mizuki had ever seen awaited. 

_From mooncakes to strawberries._ She sighed as she got to work.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

For the next week, she did nothing but prepare fruit. She had learned that the royal family went through amazing quantities of the stuff, especially considering that only two of them were currently living in the palace. The strawberries had turned out to be the Fire Lord’s favorite, while the Princess Azula preferred cherries. And since apparently spitting out cherry pits was beneath a princess’s dignity, every single one had to be carefully pitted by hand, so as not to interfere with the integrity of the fruit. Naturally, this task fell to Mizuki more often than not. 

But she never complained. Despite her sore hands and aching upper back and juice-stained fingers, she was determined to persevere. And it seemed that her stoicism paid off. Finally, she got to work in the pastry department with Ayosa. 

“Your job today is to sift powdered sugar onto these custard tarts,” Ayosa told her. That proved to be a pleasant enough task, although the powdered sugar bag had been nearly empty, so soon Mizuki had to open a new one. She ended up opening it with a bit too much force, and the stuff flew all over her. She started to laugh, and once she started, she found it difficult to stop. It was a welcome relief from the stresses of the past week. Ayosa soon joined in.

“I must look ridiculous!” Mizuki finally managed to gasp.

“Don’t worry. It happens to everyone at least once,” Ayosa assured her. Mizuki, however, had no time to respond, since it was at that very moment when the head chef shouted, “The Fire Lord’s coming! Everyone get into position!” 

_Well, it looks like I’ll have something to tell Daichi after all,_ Mizuki thought as she dropped to her knees and heard heavy footsteps. She had actually asked Ayosa about the likelihood of any royal visitors the other day. The older woman had replied, “They might, but usually they only come down here when they either really liked something or really hated something. Unfortunately, now that Prince Zuko and Prince Iroh are gone, it’s usually the latter.”

“Fire Lord!” she heard the head chef say after he was given permission to stand up. “To what do we owe the privilege of being exalted by your presence?” 

“I would like to know,” came a low voice, “who has been cutting the strawberries these past few days.”

_Shit._

“Th-that would be the new intern, Fire Lord,” the head chef responded. 

“Thank you. Now…”–addressing the entire room–“will this intern please rise?”

Mizuki shakily got to her feet. _Wonderful. I’m likely going to get chewed out by the Fire Lord himself while covered in powdered sugar. Great going, Mizuki._

“Ah. I see that our intern is female this year,” the Fire Lord observed. “Now what is your name?”

Mizuki swallowed, then stated her name in as clear a voice as she could manage. _Could he get on with it already?!_

“Well, Mizuki, I would like to say…”

She was starting to think that he was intentionally drawing this out just to see her squirm.

“…that I would like you to keep cutting them exactly as you were.”

At first, Mizuki continued cringing out of instinct. Then it sank in. The Fire Lord was actually _praising_ her. She looked around, and everyone appeared to be as confused as she was.

“Everyone else cuts them too thickly,” he was explaining. “That makes them difficult to eat at times. Your slices are so thin that they practically _melt_ on the tongue.”

Was he flirting with her? She couldn’t imagine why. For one thing, she was fifteen and he was forty…eew. For another, she didn’t think she was his type appearance-wise. She wouldn’t consider herself bad-looking at all, but she had a strong jawline, thick eyebrows, and skin that wasn’t nearly pale enough to pass muster with someone who was accustomed to those practically translucent court beauties.

“The Fire Lord has given you a compliment,” the head chef prompted. 

“Thank you,” Mizuki told him, still in shock and hoping that she sounded properly grateful. Well. That wasn’t something that happened every day. Maybe now he would leave and she could have an awesome story to tell her grandchildren someday. 

But the Fire Lord wasn’t done with her quite yet. He moved so close to her that she was obliged to look at his face. She had to admit, he did have an aura of power and majesty about him that the portraits didn’t quite capture, and wasn’t exactly ugly either. The beard was still stupid, though. And he either had an enormous forehead, or his hairline was receding.

“You must be good with a knife,” said. “Perhaps a demonstration is in order?”

The head chef took the hint, and had a cutting station set up within a minute. Mizuki started mowing through strawberries like they were nothing; she’d been adept at doing this, and now had a week of intensive practice under her belt. Once a pile of slices had been amassed, Mizuki put the knife down and switched to a fire dagger, not missing a beat. Yes, she was showing off now, but what better time was there for her to do that? 

She got through the pile probably faster than she had ever done in her life, and turned back to the Fire Lord, posing with the knife in one hand and the fire dagger emanating from the other. She couldn’t resist doing a little “Ta-dah!”

“Very interesting,” the Fire Lord said as he nodded. Then he abruptly turned and swept out of the room. 

“Well? What’s everyone waiting for? Get back to work!” the head chef bellowed.

**PRESENT**

Mizuki groaned as she was awoken by her mother’s knock on her bedroom door.

“Mizuki? It’s time to get up.”

“Go ‘way,” Mizuki mumbled. She buried her face in her pillow and turned to face away from Mom. 

“The twins are hungry,” Mom tried. 

“Then bring them here and _leave me alone_ ,” Mizuki growled. This was usually the point where Mom backed down. Today, however, she walked up and briskly shook Mizuki’s shoulder.

“You need to get up now. We’ve already set up in the basement.”

Oh yeah. Today was the day of the eclipse. All Fire Nation citizens had been told to stay in their houses today, preferably underground, until the all-clear signal came. The reasoning behind this had not been clearly explained. 

“ _Mizuki,_ ” her mother said, her tone uncharacteristically insistent, as she grabbed her by the feet. “Don’t make me drag you out. You can’t stay in bed all day again, eclipse or not.”

 _What a hypocrite_ , Mizuki thought. But she sighed in resignation and got out of bed, grumbling about it all the way. 

“I’m up. But I’m not changing out of my pajamas, and that’s final.” Mom didn’t object. 

When they made their way down to the basement, she saw that Daichi was already down there to watch over Akane and Akemi. At least they weren’t crying yet. 

“All right, you two,” she muttered, unfastening her top and draping a blanket around the three of them. She felt nothing as they started feeding. This was supposed to be a magical moment of bonding or whatever, but to Mizuki it was just another annoying and uncomfortable chore to get through. 

All of her classmates were dividing their vacation time between part-time summer jobs and leisure. They would be going back to school in a couple of months for their junior year, while she would be stuck at home breastfeeding and changing diapers. Who could have guessed a year ago, when she’d had such high hopes, that _this_ would be where she ended up?

The warning sirens chose that exact moment to go off, causing both of the twins to unlatch and start screaming. This, in turn, caused milk to soak the front of Mizuki’s pajama top. What was more, her scar was bothering her again, despite the doctors saying weeks ago that it was fully healed.

She hated her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I watch a lot of Chopped.
> 
> OMG, guys, the famous Chapter 5 is going up next week! I'm so proud of it that it's a little ridiculous. I think it's about 8750 words long...unfortunately, I don't think I can make it to OVER 9000, but it still beats my previous word count record by close to a thousand. I do admit that it'll be a bitch to proofread...I hope that doesn't cause any delays.


	5. Shiza II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I lied! After much thought, I actually decided to post this early, since I've been writing and revising it for over a month, and I didn't really want to deal with all the formatting after work. I still plan to post Chapter 6 this Friday as scheduled. 
> 
> And yes, this actually is OVER 9000 words long! Closer to 10,000 words, actually. I tried to put in a whole bunch of details about Shiza's new life, since a lot of novels I read about royal mistresses tend to skim over that a bit. (And I kind of have a chip on my shoulder about details anyway, since my state made us take this STUPID writing test no fewer than three times, and they ALWAYS said I didn't have enough detail.)
> 
> WARNING: This is the chapter where the neither-sided (read: mutually nonconsensual) OC/OC from the tags applies. Other tags that are relevant here include the physical abuse, drugging, and traumatic childbirth ones. And to borrow a tag from the GoT fandom: Ozai is his own warning.

**PAST**

Two nights later, Ozai sent for her again. Shiza was in a low mood as she was escorted to his rooms. Early yesterday morning, she’d tried to limp back to her and Rin’s room with a basin of water to clean the mess off her thighs before her sister woke up, but Rin had already been awake. She’d rolled her eyes, calling Shiza a slut. Then, today, her parents had arrived at court, and Father had yelled at her for messing up the plan while Mother wept silently. When he was done shouting, he had banned her from the family home indefinitely. She hadn’t been planning to tell Ozai about this, but as soon as she entered the room, he asked her why she looked all grumpy. Then all of her heartache just spilled out of her at once.

“That is weakness, you know,” he reproved once she was done talking. “Letting their lowly opinions get to you like that when you know the truth…that _I_ am the only one who understands you.”

“Yes,” Shiza whispered, looking down at her clasped hands. 

There was a pause. Then: “Take your clothes off. I want to show you something.” After she did what he said, he turned to a table beside his bed and opened a drawer, taking out a little glass bottle filled with a yellowish and viscous liquid. 

“Now come sit in my lap,” he instructed.

Shiza obeyed this too, getting more confused by the second. Ozai’s robes felt odd against her naked skin, and his breath was hot on her face. Her stomach churned. Was he going to do something that hurt again?

“Close your eyes,” Ozai all but whispered into her ear. “And spread your legs a little.”

“Like this?”

“Perfect.”

No matter how much Shiza tried to calm herself, she continued to shake slightly. She stiffened and squeaked as she heard him remove the cork from the bottle and pour some of the contents into his hand. 

“Ssh. It’s just palm oil. Keep your eyes closed; I promise you that this will feel good. Don’t you trust me?”

At first, Shiza still wasn’t completely convinced, but then he moved his hand down _there,_ and…oh. He was right, as always. It did feel good. So that’s what that little bump thingy was for; she’d always wondered. She found herself tilting her hips upward to press into his hand. He kept touching her and whispering to her, winding her up tighter and tighter, until…

_Wow._

“What _was_ that? I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?” she asked once she was able to speak. 

Ozai made a little huff of amusement into her hair. “No, that was exactly what was supposed to happen. You just came.”

“Came from where?”

This time, Ozai gave a full-on laugh. Shiza didn’t understand what was funny.

“It’s just an expression. There are other words you can use if you don’t like that one. Now open your eyes, and go lie down on your back.”

This time, she happily spread her legs for him, and it barely hurt at all. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The following months were good ones. The very next day after Shiza “came,” she was given her own apartment, which had a bedroom, an adjacent sitting room, and a bathroom, as well as a spare room that could be converted into whatever she wished. She would no longer have to go all the way down the hallway in the middle of the night when she needed to pee. Rin refused to look at her the entire time she was packing. Although she and her sister continued to see each other often in the context of working for Azula, they rarely spoke. 

But that didn’t matter; not when Shiza was being showered with so many jewels that she lost track of them all: necklaces and bracelets and hairpieces and earrings, made of gold and diamonds and pearls and gemstones of all hues. One time, she gathered all of them up into her hands and let them all rain down on her in a shower of color as she laughed and laughed. She was also given new clothing that put the wardrobe she’d previously been so excited about to shame, all of the finest silk or linen or cotton. She stumbled around in a blur of opulence and lack of sleep, never having enough time to fully appreciate one new thing before the next arrived. Living in such luxury made it surprisingly easy to forget that her family hated her. 

Her change in status was overwhelming at first. She’d gone from girl to woman literally overnight, and a woman of great importance to boot. Esteemed and powerful men bowed to her when she walked by them. Whenever she wanted to go somewhere outside the palace, a palanquin would be made ready for her. She liked to take one down to the lake on nice days when her schedule allowed for it, where she’d go swimming or just sit on the lakeshore relaxing. For Shiza’s fifteenth birthday, Ozai even gifted her with a little pleasure barge of her very own, so she could be rowed across the tranquil waters all afternoon if she pleased.

Life at court was rarely boring, stuffed full as it was with rituals and ceremonies and banquets. Whenever the Fire Nation military was victorious over those awful rebels, they’d celebrate with a fireworks display; the red and gold lights looked sublime against the night sky. Once a week, they had Talent Night, where people from all over the Fire Nation (home islands and colonies) put on a wide variety of performances. There could be dance, poetry recitals, music, and even short plays. Shiza, whose parents had never had much of an appreciation for the arts, loved the anticipation of waiting to see what the talent would be each week, even though Ozai never seemed to care for it much.

As the weeks passed, she got to know the other members of the Royal Family too. Prince Zuko was always nice to her, albeit very reserved and awkward. The first time they met, he hadn’t been watching where he was running and literally bumped into Shiza in a hallway, sending her flying.

“Uh…sorry about that,” he said, gaze fixed firmly on his feet. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? Do you need help getting back up?”

“No, I’m fine,” Shiza said as she rose. “Just a little startled, is all. I don’t believe we’ve met before? My name is Shiza.”

“I’m Zuko,” he answered, still unable to look her in the eye. “Well…itwasnicemeetingyou.” And off he ran.

That night at dinner, she saw Zuko glance at her while whispering to his sister. He looked crestfallen at her response. Shiza couldn’t make out their words due to the large amount of background noise, and also because they were at the high table and she was only at the next-highest table. Azula whispered a few more words, and Zuko looked indignant and shouted, “ _I do not!_ ” Ozai glared at Zuko for the intrusion, and the prince went back to quietly eating. His sister looked on smugly.

Shiza never was sure what to make of Azula; the princess continued to demean and insult her regularly, yet seemed to prefer her assistance with dressing and grooming over anyone else’s. She’d even arranged for Shiza to take special beautician training.

“You’re the only one who can do my hair properly,” Azula admitted once. “Don’t let it get to your head, though.”

And then…there was Prince Iroh, who had returned to the palace shortly after Shiza’s relationship with Ozai had started. At first, she’d avoided the old man because she knew how much his younger brother hated him. However, when they inevitably encountered each other, she was surprised when he proved to be perfectly amiable. He tended to say a lot of pretty and poetic stuff that was mostly about tea for some reason. (Or at least, that’s what it _seemed_ to be about; Shiza had never been great at comprehending hidden meanings.) The one bad thing was that he did not approve of Ozai taking her to his bed.

“How old are you, child?” Iroh had asked the first time they met properly, his eyes on the necklace that Ozai had given her the night their affair began. The Fire Lord liked her to wear it as often as possible.

“Fourteen,” Shiza answered. She quickly added, “Almost fifteen!” as Iroh looked dismayed, but it didn’t seem to make much of a difference. 

He had that same expression on his face whenever Ozai allowed her to sit at the high table. Shiza just tried to ignore it, happy to sample the food that was reserved for the royal family and their special guests: the highest-quality cuts of meat and fish, the freshest and most flavorful produce from the gardens, and rare delicacies from the farthest-flung islands and colonies. Sometimes, Ozai even had her sit on his lap…in front of the entire court! This was usually a sign that he’d call her to his rooms that night.

Sex with the Fire Lord could still be intimidating, to be honest…even now that Shiza knew what was going on. He was so much larger than her, probably at least double her weight, and when he was on top of her she sometimes felt smothered, the smell of sweat strong in her nose. And then there were the times that he wanted her to put her mouth there, which took some getting used to as well. But if she pleased him, he’d reward her, and the fact that she had that effect on him made her feel powerful. That was incentive enough for her to learn to deal with the less pleasant parts.

Not all of their time together was spent on having sex, though. The Fire Lord was often tense and irritable after a long day of ruling the country, so Shiza quickly learned to be a calm and soothing haven for him. She’d brush his hair, just as she did Azula’s, and learned how to give massages as he vented. He also liked to drink sake to relax, but Shiza’s attempts to join him in this had been unsuccessful.

One terrifying time, she had overstepped. Ozai had been complaining bitterly about riots in the towns surrounding the Capital, pacing around the room with sake cup in hand while Shiza knelt on the bed.

“It’s not my fault they had two poor harvests in a row. What do they expect _me_ to do about it? I don’t control the fucking weather!”

Shiza never really liked it when he said the f-word, but kept it to herself. She thought of the famine due to a bad harvest on her family’s island about five years ago. It made her shudder to recall it. While her own family certainly hadn’t been in danger of running out of food, they had felt the pinch. They’d tried to share what little they had to spare with their tenants, but aid had been slow to arrive from the capital, and a couple of small children had actually starved to death.

“Maybe they’ll stop protesting if you give them more food?” she suggested meekly. She knew that the palace had massive amounts of food at banquets, and a lot of waste when certain dishes proved unpopular. Certainly, they’d have enough to feed anyone and everyone going hungry. She reminded herself that he hadn’t been brought up as austerely as she’d been; hadn’t seen the starving children with his own eyes. All he needed was someone to help him understand.

But Ozai didn’t see it that way. He abruptly turned his head and snarled at her, causing her to scream, and hurled the cup to the floor, shattering it. Then he grabbed one of her delicate wrists in his enormous hand and squeezed it brutally enough to grind the bones together, holding it over her head.

“OW! Stop!” she pleaded. If anyone outside the room heard her, they made no sign of it. 

“For your information, you little brat, we _are_ giving them food!” he bellowed. “If we give them any more, they’ll come to expect free handouts and not want to work. And we wouldn’t want _that_ , would we?” 

“N-no…” Shiza managed to get out. Tears ran down her face, and she cried out again as she felt the skin of her wrist start to burn.

Ozai continued, “ _Your_ job is to provide comfort. If I wanted advice, I’d ask my council…not some dimwitted child. I have raised you far beyond your birth status, given you all of these privileges, and _this_ is how you repay me? Perhaps you aren’t as mature as I thought you were.”

Shiza tried to apologize, but couldn’t get any words out due to sobbing so hard. He was right. She, who had struggled with book learning her entire life, had no place involving herself in politics. How could she have been so stupid as to cross him when she knew he was already angry?! He could kill her with one blow had he the mind to do it.

But his rage ended as quickly as it had started. He released her wrist, and brusquely said, “Consider that your warning. Clothes off. _Now_.” After he’d had his way with her (thankfully, he was so wound up that it was over almost as soon as it had begun), he ordered her out of his room.

The next morning, while Dr. Huang was tending to Shiza’s bruised and burned wrist, he said, “You shouldn’t have provoked him, you know. That’ll only make things worse for you.” 

“I know,” Shiza said, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry.” Despite the doctor’s best efforts, the burns left some scarring, which she covered up at all times with either extra-long sleeves or chunky bracelets.

At first, she thought that Ozai was done with her for good, but then he sent for her again three days later and acted like nothing had happened. From then on, Shiza was careful to always listen quietly to his rants, never offering any input except murmurs of sympathy. She resolved to put the whole thing out of her mind; obviously, this had been an isolated incident. The nightmares, and her tendency to flinch whenever anyone even came near that wrist, she kept buried deep inside her.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Six months into their relationship, Shiza had some big news. It was all she could do to wait until Ozai next summoned her. 

“Well?” he asked as she stood before him with a big grin on her face, bouncing on her heels. “Did you have something to tell me? Out with it.”

“I’m pregnant!” Shiza exclaimed. She felt giddy with excitement over the prospect of becoming a mother. All of her life, she had been taught that the best gift that a Fire Nation woman could give her country was bearing and raising lots of strong and loyal children. Since the Fire Lord was the living embodiment of the Fire Nation, she could give her gift more directly than most could. She wasn’t bothered by her age, either. Her three oldest sisters had all had their first child while still in their teens. She'd be almost sixteen by the time the baby came, and sixteen wasn’t all _that_ much younger than eighteen or nineteen.

Despite how thrilled she was, Shiza had kept her suspicions to herself for a few weeks. She hadn’t wanted to jump to conclusions when her cycle was a little late, since it was still somewhat erratic due to her youth. But then a little late had become very late, and she’d also started getting queasy at times. Yesterday, she’d finally gone to Dr. Huang, who had confirmed that she was expecting. 

Ozai’s face showed no change in expression. 

“Good,” he said. “It had taken so long, I was starting to think something was wrong with you.”

At first, Shiza was disappointed by his reaction. However, he beckoned her over, and when she looked down, she saw that he was _very_ excited indeed. He ended up needing her services an unheard of three times that night, and in the days and weeks that followed sent for her even more often than he had been previously. He was a little gentler with her now, and that, combined with her increased sensitivity, led to her having orgasms (which she had chosen as her preferred term) much more easily and frequently. 

Her every craving was indulged, and Ozai encouraged her to eat as much as she wanted in order to produce a strong firebender. All she had to do was request one of the dishes she’d grown to love during her time at the palace–such as moo-sow soup dumplings or glazed sablefish or eel curry or the confusing yet delicious tart pie–and it would be served that very evening. However, her strongest craving of all was for melon. She had found that she could never seem to eat enough of the fruit, and she was provided with a huge plate of assorted slices at every meal. And it wasn’t only her tastebuds that were being pampered. At the Royal Spa, where she went almost every day, they rubbed special creams into her skin to treat her bouts of pregnancy-induced acne, and massaged her aching feet and back with scented oils until she often fell asleep from being so relaxed. 

She felt extraordinarily content and empowered as her belly started to swell. When Ozai had been just a prince, he told her, his paramours had had to carry and give birth to his children in secret. But now, he was Fire Lord and could parade them around as he pleased. And he certainly wasted no time in parading _her_ around. Her second-trimester blessing from the Fire Sages and donning of the ceremonial belly wrap had been held in the courtyard, with dozens of people in attendance. When she sat at the high table, Ozai would sometimes have her stand up and turn to the side so everyone at the lower tables could see her progress. They applauded her every time, too. Even though she ultimately became huge and ungainly and uncomfortable, she was carrying the _Fire Lord’s child_ , and everyone at court knew it. 

For the first time in her life, Shiza felt beautiful, and even sexy. Her hair was thick and shiny, courtiers commented on her “glow,” and her breasts grew heavy along with her abdomen. Ozai commissioned several portraits of her; some were the official kind meant for public display, while others featured her with little or no clothing. It took some time, but eventually Shiza got used to the embarrassment of taking her clothes off in front of a man other than her lover. The Fire Lord kept all of these pictures stowed away in a large safe, so they could be for his eyes only. 

She was also seeing signs that her plan of redemption through love might be starting to work. Ozai hadn’t yelled at her in months now, and sometimes he even asked how her day went before starting to rant about his. Things weren’t quite perfect, though; another girl slightly older than her had conceived three months after Shiza did, and Shiza had cried in the safety of her rooms the night she found out. But that had evidently been the result of a brief fling, and Ozai didn’t pay nearly as much attention to this other girl as he did to Shiza. She tried to put it out of her mind. After all, now that she had proven fertile, she thought that he would certainly marry her soon. But every time she asked when the wedding was going to be, he immediately changed the subject. 

Odd. She loved him deeply, and made sure he knew that. Why was he so hesitant?

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Exactly one month before her sixteenth birthday, Shiza was woken up by contractions in the small hours of the morning. She was a bit nervous, but mostly just looking forward to getting to see her baby at long last. Women went through labor all the time, she thought, so it couldn’t be that bad. Plus, her mother and all of her sisters had all been permitted to be there with her…even Rin had set aside her differences long enough to attend. To be honest, Shiza would have preferred a female doctor or midwife, but Dr. Huang had delivered Prince Lu Ten, Ozai’s oldest three children, Princess Azula, and several babies who were assumed to be Ozai’s but that he didn’t outwardly acknowledge because their mothers were servants. (Prince Zuko had been born a month early, she’d heard, and came out so quickly that the doctor didn’t have time to get there.) Surely he knew what he was doing after so much experience.

Things weren’t so bad at first, but then her labor dragged on for what seemed like an eternity. The sun had risen, traveled across the sky, and set again, and Shiza wasn’t even ready to push yet. No matter how much Mother and her sisters tried to assure her that the first baby almost always took a long time, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was going to happen. And she hated when Dr. Huang came to shove his fingers inside her to check how far she was dilated.

A little after midnight, Dr. Huang gave her a medicine dropper filled with a reddish-brown liquid during one of his exams.

“Drink this. It’s tincture of opium,” he said. “It will help with the pain.”

The stuff tasted even nastier than it looked. Although it did take the edge off the contractions, it also made Shiza nauseous and dizzy to the point that she threw up. She drifted in and out of full consciousness; the voices of her mother and sisters became indistinct but soothing murmurs as if they were underwater. However, one word finally rose to the surface:

“ _Push._ ”

“…Huh?” she mumbled.

“Dr. Huang says it’s time for you to push,” Mother repeated. And so Shiza did. The urge was so powerful that there really wasn’t anything else she could do.

As her focus sharpened, she noted that her oldest sister, Aiko, was sitting at the top of the bed, cradling her head and stroking her hair. Mother and Rin were each holding a hand, while Cho and Izaka were supporting her legs. Despite their best encouragements, though, Shiza was making very little progress. No matter how much effort she put in, it was never enough for Dr. Huang.

“You need to try harder,” he snapped at her. 

“ _I CAN’T!_ ” she screamed, bursting into tears of frustration and terror.

“Young lady. There is no need for that much noise,” the doctor retorted.

“Look! She’s doing her best, okay?” Rin snapped. Shiza looked up in surprise. Then the other women in the room spoke up, emboldened by Rin’s words.

“I’d like to see _you_ try to go through this without screaming, old man!” Aiko said.

Mother added, “She can’t go on like this for much longer.”

Shiza kept bearing down, gritting her teeth so hard that her jaw ached, but the huge mass inside her refused to budge. Finally, after going at this for two and a half hours, she collapsed from exhaustion. She closed her eyes, expecting to die at any minute. 

She was vaguely aware of Dr. Huang and Mother having a whispered discussion. Then Mother walked back and said, “Shiza? Listen to me. Dr. Huang is going to use special instruments called forceps to help get the baby out. And he’s going to make a cut to give some more room.”

“ _Cut?!_ ” Shiza yelped, her eyes flying open. 

“It’s not so bad. I had to have one when I had Hiro,” Cho said quickly.

Shiza soon discovered that Cho had been lying through her teeth. The pain was so sudden and blinding that later, Shiza would only have a vague memory of Dr. Huang bending over the foot of the bed and wielding something that resembled a giant pair of tongs. 

As the first rays of daylight entered the room, the baby finally slid out of her body, starting to cry immediately. Dr. Huang pronounced it to be a boy. Shiza was still quite disoriented, and felt an initial sense of disconnect as this pinkish-purple creature with the pointed head and bruise on his face was placed on her chest. Her first thought was that it looked like a pentapus, with the cord serving as the fifth limb. What was she supposed to _do_ with it? She almost felt relieved as Dr. Huang and his attendant took the baby away to clean and measure it. By the time the child was bundled up and handed back to her, though, his eyes were open, and proved to be a bright gold just like his father’s. He peered up at her curiously, mouth slightly open. Shiza was able to see the human in him for the first time, and began to fall in love.

“Such a pretty baby,” she whispered. She ran a finger down her son’s non-bruised cheek. “Your father will be so happy to meet you!”

Her baby eventually fed some at her breast (Shiza ignored Dr. Huang’s comments that this would ruin her figure), and drifted off to sleep. By all appearances, he was healthy and would thrive. Shiza, however, felt like a wreck. She’d thought that the pain would all go away once the baby was out, but the opium was wearing off, and she was still cramping, bleeding, shaking, and sweating. She clung on to her baby like he was a lifeline as Dr. Huang stitched up the wound that he had inflicted on her in the first place. 

A couple of hours later, a servant walked into the room and whispered into Dr. Huang’s ear.

“Ah. Thank you,” the doctor said. Then, to the room, “Congratulations. You get an in-person visit. The Fire Lord is on his way.”

The room burst into a flurry of activity. All the windows in the room were flung open to get rid of the smell of blood and vomit and who-knows-what-else, the sheets were changed, Izaka brushed out Shiza’s hair and mopped the sweat off her face, and Mother bundled her into a fancy bathrobe. As a knock sounded on the door, Mother made sure that the pillows were arranged in the most pleasing manner possible, and implored Shiza to smile. The latter was surprisingly easy. Even as drained as Shiza was, Ozai was still handsome enough to make her heart flutter whenever she saw him, and she was filled with pride that he had deemed her worthy to be one of the bearers of his progeny. 

However, he barely even looked at her as he crossed the room and plucked the baby from her arms. 

“What is that mark on his face?” was the first thing out of his mouth as he turned to Dr. Huang. “Is it a deformity?”

Dr. Huang quickly answered, “No, Fire Lord. It should heal on its own shortly.”

“I see,” Ozai answered. Then, to no one in particular, “He is strong. Born at dawn, too; quite auspicious. His name shall be Zoren.”

Well, that was a hopeful sign, at least. Zoren had been the name of either Sozin’s grandfather or father; Shiza couldn’t remember which. Had there been another Zoren as well? Or was she thinking of Zo _ryu_?

After a few minutes, Ozai handed the baby back to Shiza, gave her a quick peck on the cheek, and left without another word. 

That...that was it? After all those months of attention? He hadn’t said a word directly to her, nor had he appeared to be at all concerned about her well-being. 

Dr. Huang kept telling her that she was fortunate to have gotten an in-person visit from the Fire Lord at all; that he usually didn’t bother. But Shiza still felt tears in her eyes.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three days later, Zoren’s bruise had faded and his head had returned to a nice round shape. Although Shiza knew she still looked like death warmed over, she had recovered enough to spend some time in the sitting room. The hope was that she’d be getting some more visitors, which is exactly what happened. In the late morning, Shiza had just finished giving Zoren a feeding, even burping him on her own for the first time, when a messenger knocked. After ascertaining that Shiza was in a fit state to receive company, the man went on to announce the arrival of “Crown Prince Zuko and his betrothed, the Lady Mai.”

Prince Zuko ran into the room, holding a beautiful largeish lacquered box tied with a ribbon. 

“So…um…we got you a present,” he explained, face flushed. “Where should I put it?”

“How about that table over there?” Shiza suggested. While the attendant was busy scooting the table over so it would be within easy reach of Shiza, Mai entered the room. Shiza didn’t know this girl too well; the betrothal negotiations had only been finalized a few weeks ago. The wedding had tentatively been planned for about five years from now, or around the time Mai turned sixteen.

Once the box was in front of her, Shiza reached forward to open it, but found it too awkward of a task to do while holding a baby. Thankfully, Zuko was more than willing to do the task for her. Inside, nestled in its own custom-made hollow lined with silk, was…a melon!

“This is a crown melon,” Zuko said in a rush. “We saw that you liked eating melon a lot, so we decided to have them grow you one in the greenhouse. A melon, that is.”

“Zuko. Stop saying the word ‘melon’ so much. You’ll make her nervous,” Mai chided. But while she was saying this, she took Zuko’s hand in hers and squeezed it. 

“He’s not giving himself enough credit,” she informed Shiza. “It was all his idea.”

“You came up with the box!” Zuko protested.

Mai waved her free hand. “Minor details.”

“What a thoughtful gift, you guys!” Shiza exclaimed, meaning every word of it. She knew that crown melons took about a hundred days to grow, so this couldn’t have been just a passing whim on Zuko’s part. 

When she looked back up from the gift, she saw that the pair were gazing down at the now-sleeping Zoren.

“He looks a lot like you, Zuko,” Mai observed.

Zuko tugged on his ponytail. “You really think so? He just kind of looks like a baby to me.” He bent his head down to get a better view, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Do you want to hold him?” Shiza asked. 

Zuko blushed a bit. “C-can I?”

“Sure! Just sit down right here..”–she patted the spot next to her on the couch–“…and be sure to support his head.”

“He’s so small…” Zuko said half to himself as Zoren was transferred into his arms.

“Yes, newborn babies tend to be that way,” Mai commented drily. She perched on the other side of Zuko. “Why are you so surprised? Don’t you have about ten other half-siblings?”

“Eleven. But I never really got to see any of them as babies. Grandfather made sure they were kept hidden,” Zuko explained. 

Shiza ventured, “You weren’t wrong, Prince Zuko. He is on the small side even for a newborn. Dr. Huang said he weighed six pounds and three ounces.”

“Wow,” Zuko said, although Shiza wasn’t sure if it was in response to what she’d just said or to just the experience of holding a baby. Then something seemed to occur to him, and he winced.

“Uh. Shiza. Can I ask a personal question?” he inquired. 

“Oh no,” Mai uttered, as if she already knew what he was going to say. 

When Shiza nodded, he began, “I know he’s small. But you’re tiny. How…”

“ _Zukoooo_ ,” Mai groaned as she facepalmed.

“How did he come out?!” Zuko burst out. Zoren opened his eyes a bit at the noise, decided it wasn’t worth crying over, and went back to sleep.

“My apologies,” Mai said quickly. “I told him not to ask that.”

“It’s all right,” Shiza said. Despite the prince’s lack of tact, she felt touched knowing that he’d been concerned about her. Not wanting to traumatize them with the gory details, so she answered Zuko’s question with a simple, “Not easily.”

“What a horrid business. Glad I’ll never do that,” Mai remarked. 

“But…you’re going to have to, right?” Shiza asked bemusedly. “To carry on the family line?”

Mai shrugged. “We’ll adopt some, I guess.”

Shiza decided that there was no arguing with her. During the entire exchange, Zuko had been absorbed in gently rocking his newborn half-brother and humming under his breath.

He would be an excellent father someday, Shiza thought. _Unlike certain other fathers whom she_ still _hadn’t heard anything further from…_

She squashed that dangerous thought before it could fully grow.

“Well…I have to leave now,” Zuko said. “My firebending lesson’s in twenty minutes, and if I’m late again....” He pulled a face and handed Zoren back.

“It was kind of you to visit!” Shiza told him. “My sisters and mother and I will split the melon for dessert tonight, and I’m sure we’ll all love it.”

As the pair left the room, Mai looked back at Shiza with a measured glance. And Shiza thought she heard the younger girl say, “Doesn’t it bother you?” in a quiet voice just as the door closed. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The melon proved to be delicious. But Shiza’s recovery was quite a bit less enjoyable. First, the wound in her private parts had gotten infected, then the infection spread to her bladder and ultimately to her kidneys. She was bedridden for weeks. And then, just when it seemed like she’d turned a corner, her milk ducts got inflamed and her legs got clots in them, placing her right back in bed. 

During this time, her days became a blur of breastfeeding, sleeping, and the hushed voices of people who were starting to think she wasn’t going to make it. Sometimes, during her better days, Zuko came to visit, always accompanied by Mai so no one could construe anything inappropriate out of it. Neither Zuko nor Mai were great conversationalists, but Shiza found it a welcome change of pace to have some non-family company that wasn’t the odious Dr. Huang. She was starting to see the pair as the younger siblings she never had. Occasionally, Zuko even played the tsungi horn or flute for her. He was surprisingly good at either, not just for his age but also in general.

Ozai, on the other hand, never visited. _He’s just busy_ , Shiza told herself. But it still stung when she loved him so much. Had she done something to upset him? She couldn’t figure out what it might be.

Finally, three months later, Dr. Huang gave her the all-clear to return to court life, and Ozai’s bed by extension. She felt excited as she finished dressing for dinner, trying to hide the paleness and circles under her eyes with makeup. Surely nothing could come between them now!

As it so happened, something did come between them that very night. Or rather, someone.

Shiza knew exactly what had happened when she saw the new girl with the flashy earrings occupying her seat at the table. Naoko was drop-dead gorgeous, and quickly became Ozai’s new favorite. Shiza was completely confused as to why Ozai had decided to sleep with her, since she was exactly the kind of shallow flatterer that he had told Shiza he hated. A relationship with her would undo all of Shiza’s painstaking efforts to help him become a better person. What was more, Naoko conceived after just two months, and now Shiza had to watch someone else getting all the attention and pampering.

It seemed as if Shiza and Naoko ended up sitting next to each other at every dinner. And every single time, no matter how hard Shiza tried to ignore her, Naoko was always able to drag her into yet another one of her petty arguments. Somehow, the older girl seemed to know instinctively exactly what it was that would push Shiza’s buttons. Their fights degenerated into screaming bouts more than once. And always, Ozai’s eyes were on them, carefully observing.

It reminded Shiza eerily of her prior conflicts with Rin, except a hundred times worse.

Things weren’t entirely hopeless, however. Ozai still sent for her fairly regularly, although it was clear that his heart wasn’t really in it. Shiza soon realized that the only way for her to retain any influence at all was to get pregnant again, which she did two months after Naoko. It was true that she wasn’t thrilled with the prospect of having another baby so soon after the first one had been such an ordeal. Nevertheless, Ozai seemed pleased, and granted her the same privileges she’d had the first time around. Pregnancy was currency with him.

It was at this time that Shiza first took up boating as a serious hobby. The trips on the lake were nice, but she felt the need to get farther away from her problems than that. She had learned the basics of sailing on her family’s boat as a child, and used Ozai’s current good will towards her to persuade him to get her one of her own. A few weeks and a couple of refresher classes later, Shiza was the proud owner of a small but sturdy craft, which also had an engine if the winds weren’t favorable. She dubbed her new acquisition the _Izayoi_. Sailing around in the waters just outside the royal family’s private harbor, the fresh sea air filling her lungs, she was at a place where Naoko’s toxic influence didn’t reach, if however briefly.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shiza’s heart broke when she saw Azula standing in the middle of her room seemingly in shock, eyes locked on the blood running down her thighs. Starting one’s period was always kind of scary no matter what, but Azula was so young for it, and without any female support. Shiza had been older, thirteen, when she got hers, and she’d had her sisters and mother to tell her exactly what to expect. But Azula, as always, refused any help and wouldn’t lower her walls. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Towards the end of the year, Shiza’s time with Ozai took an abrupt downturn, despite her condition. Her first thought was that he’d switched entirely to Naoko, but then Naoko accused her of hogging all the time. Nothing Shiza said could change her mind about that. Clearly, a third party had gotten involved. But there weren’t any signs of a new favorite. _Who could it be?_

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

In these days of incessant worrying about who was or wasn’t sleeping with Ozai, the one ray of sunlight in Shiza’s life was Zoren. He was growing like a weed, and had proven gregarious, energetic, and quick to laugh. Shiza treasured the time they spent together, although her duties as a lady of the court precluded her from doing this as often as she would like. She had converted the spare room in her suite into a second bedroom, despite Ozai’s repeated hints that babies belonged in the nursery. And she even assisted the nurse with the less savory aspects of caring for a baby…including diaper changes.

To celebrate her son’s first birthday, Shiza invited Zuko and Mai to a picnic lunch by the turtleduck pond. Also along for the excursion was Izumi, who had been raised outside of the palace and was a new arrival to the dormitory of Ozai’s illegitimate children. Rumor had it that the poor girl was miserably homesick, and cried herself to sleep most nights. Why Ozai had felt the need to separate such an emotionally fragile child (and a nonbender at that) from her mother, Shiza wasn’t certain. But she did know what it was like to be alone.

“It’s okay! You can come sit with us! We won’t bite!” Shiza encouraged as the ten-year-old girl hovered in the periphery, looking at them with those huge and distinct pale-gray eyes of hers. She herself sank onto the ground rather clumsily, given that she was five months pregnant. Izumi finally perched on the corner of Shiza’s towel and nibbled at a piece of smoked sea slug.

Zoren, meanwhile, had crawled straight for Zuko and settled into his lap; the two were already well-acquainted. The older boy was feeding him little bits of everything, occasionally asking Shiza if something was a choking hazard. When he wasn’t preoccupied with eating, Zoren babbled a mile a minute, and always got a kick out of Zuko nodding his head gravely in response.

Being so close to each other was good for both of them, Shiza thought. Zoren would have a role model, and Zuko would be one. He was growing up quickly. This time last year, he’d still been a child, but puberty had since hit him with the force of a komodo rhino. He’d shot up several inches in height, and his voice had started cracking a few months ago. He and Mai appeared to see each other differently, too. Shiza had even walked in on them kissing in a hidden corner of the library once, much to the embarrassment of everyone involved. 

What was it like, Shiza wondered, to have one’s romantic interest actually be close to one’s own age? The pair’s betrothal had been arranged, but it looked like it would turn out to be a love match after all. Good for them.

The five of them spent a thoroughly pleasant time together; even Izumi spoke up every now and then. But then, just as Shiza was getting the special birthday mochi out, a shadow fell over them.

“Well well well. What do we have here?” Ozai asked.

Shiza noticed how Zuko tensed up when he saw his father. She wasn’t sure at first what he was worried about, but then she looked up and noticed that the Fire Lord looked…annoyed. Maybe even angry. At what? They hadn’t been doing anything wrong!

“We were just having a picnic,” she answered quickly. “For Zoren’s birthday.” Her son looked up at his father with big eyes; this was actually the first time Zoren had seen Ozai since the day he was born.

Ozai ignored both of them. 

“Prince Zuko…have you practiced your katas today?” he inquired.

“Yes, sir. Twice.”

Ozai shook his head. “Twice is not enough. Especially since you continue to lag so far behind your sister. You will do them a third time.”

“Uh, of course, sure. I just need a few minutes to finish eating.”

“Zuko. Are you _defying_ me?!” Flames flared briefly from Ozai’s hands.

“N-no, sir,” Zuko all but whispered.

“Then you will do them _now._ ”

Zuko kept his eyes firmly fixed to the ground.

“Sorry, guys. I gotta go,” he mumbled. Then, “Sorry, little guy,” as he lifted a protesting Zoren off his lap and stood up. After Zuko slunk off, Ozai turned his attention to Shiza.

“Watch it. You’ll spoil that child if you keep this up,” he reprimanded before turning on his heel and walking off. 

Zoren? But…he was just a baby! They tried to carry on without Zuko, but the convivial atmosphere had been ruined, and Izumi had crept back into her shell. There was no real option left but to pack things up. Shiza felt a stab of irritation. Ozai was always so harsh with Zuko. What was wrong with a _picnic?_

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Regardless of her anger towards Ozai, when he sent for her the following night, she answered his summons. However, after the guards let her pass and she walked into the antechamber, she was nonplussed when she heard conversation already coming from the bedroom. 

She knocked on the door, and Ozai answered it, opening the door only a crack.

“There you are. Come in,” he said. “I have something special planned for tonight.”

Shiza stepped into the room, only to find Naoko curled up on Ozai’s bed, very pregnant and completely nude. 

“What’s **she** doing there?!” both of them cried out simultaneously.

“You two will do as I say,” Ozai ordered, an edge in his voice. “I have been waiting for this for four months now, and if either of you ruins it, your families will pay.”

What was he talking about? Waiting for what? Shiza continued to stand there, bewildered, until Naoko hissed, “He wants us to have sex with each other, idiot!” 

Oh no. _No._ Shiza had always done everything Ozai asked of her, no matter how strange and/or gross she found it. But…but she hated Naoko, and the feeling was mutual. He should know that; he’d spent enough time watching them argue!

Their mutual lover sat down in a chair beside the bed to observe. It appeared that Shiza had no choice than to start undressing, which she did with shaky hands. 

She’d had no idea what to do; her upbringing had been so sheltered that she hadn’t even known that two women having sex was a thing until tonight. However, Ozai knew exactly what he wanted to see, and gave them detailed instructions. Positioning was exceedingly awkward with both their bellies getting in the way, but he didn’t allow them to stop until they’d both had orgasms. If Naoko was as humiliated as Shiza was by the end, she’d done a great job of hiding it. 

Afterwards, Shiza lay in bed staring up at the ceiling long after the other two had fallen asleep. She’d shown her Fire Lord nothing but love for more than two years, and he still made her do this. Maybe she didn’t understand him as well as she thought she had…

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

For the next two months, Ozai was quite cold to Shiza, even though she’d done as he had asked. When she tried to inquire why he was mad at her, he’d simply ignore her. But one morning, things seemed like they might be starting to turn around. Naoko was absent from court, and people were whispering that her labor had started. Shiza was just glad to have a whole day free of her rival’s stupid crap. They had complied with Ozai’s fantasy, but their enmity towards each other was unchanged. 

The Fire Lord himself was in one of his hours-long war meetings today, so things were pretty quiet in the palace. In addition, the weather was gorgeous, which was especially welcomed after several rainy days in a row. Thus, that afternoon Shiza planned to spend some time at the lake or on the _Izayoi,_ but Rin grabbed her arm in the front hall as she was heading out. After Zoren was born, her sister had gone back to her usual aloof self, and Shiza wondered if she’d imagined the whole thing with Rin standing up for her in the birthing room.

“Shiza! Agni Kai!” Rin exclaimed. Shiza was a little lost.

“But…I can’t bend,” she reminded her sister. Rin looked confused, then very annoyed.

“I wasn’t challenging you to an Agni Kai, Ant Flea!” she clarified. “I meant that there was going to be one.”

“Well, who’s going to be doing it, then?”

“I dunno. But it’s somebody important. Now let’s get going before we miss it.”

Rin dragged her along by the arm until they reached the Agni Kai chamber. Shiza had never actually been in here before, although she was pretty sure that Rin had.

“Yes! There’s still good seats!” her sister cheered. And up they went, Shiza having to apologize to multiple people for bumping them with her belly. Other than her and Rin, the spectators appeared to be entirely male. No, wait, she could just make out Azula’s topknot in the front row.

“Any news yet about who’s participating?” Rin asked the man next to them as they sat down.

“Not really,” he replied. “But I heard there was some sort of disagreement in the war room.”

So they’d be forced to watch a couple of crusty old generals fighting. Not Shiza’s idea of a great time. She sighed. She hoped that this would be over with quickly, because her back was killing her.

A couple of minutes later, the first combatant walked onto the field. It was…Prince Zuko.

 _What?_ Zuko was a sweetheart! What could he have possibly said to offend anyone? Also, he was only thirteen. Shiza didn’t know too much about Agni Kai rules, but that seemed a little young to fight in one to her. She knew he could be a little impulsive at times, but why hadn’t anyone stopped him?

In any case, Zuko seemed at ease as he assumed the traditional pre-duel pose. While his back was turned, the other participant walked in and…Shiza thought she was going to be sick. 

The father of her children dramatically tossed away his scarf, letting it flutter to the ground. The opponents turned to face each other, and Zuko froze in place. 

“Please, Father! I only had the Fire Nation’s best interests at heart. I’m sorry I spoke out of turn!” Zuko said, each sentence sounding more panicked than the last. 

“You will _fight_ for your _honor_ ,” Ozai responded. The voice that had always shaken Shiza to the core now did so for a different reason. 

The boy who had so shyly presented her with his gift, who had taken such delight in his younger half-brother, knelt on the floor as his father advanced on him, continuing to plead for mercy. Some of the audience had started booing, the man next to Shiza and Rin among them. Rin, thankfully, was not among them; her eyes were wide, and she had a hand pressed over her mouth. 

This couldn’t be happening. Maybe this was all just a bad dream; perhaps she had fallen on the slippery floors of the front hall and hit her head. Unfortunately, Shiza’s furtive pinch to her own arm confirmed that this was indeed reality. 

She sensed that this couldn’t be entirely about whatever thing Zuko said that Ozai had taken umbrage at. Was this _still_ about that stupid picnic? Or something deeper than that? He couldn’t possibly be serious about wanting his son to fight him. Shiza hoped that this was just his attempt to give Zuko a good scare, and that the Fire Lord would let his son go once the prince had been properly chastised. Ozai’s next words evaporated that hope, though. 

“Rise and **fight** , Prince Zuko!” he thundered. 

“I won’t fight you,” Zuko insisted, voice surprisingly strong. 

Shiza’s eyes darted around the audience, hoping she’d see other people who were sympathetic to Zuko’s plight. She found none. “You will learn respect,” Ozai told his son. “And suffering will be your teacher.” 

“ _No…_ ” Shiza whispered. She was suddenly hyper-aware of the scars on her wrist, and she realized what was going to happen the instant before Zuko did. She wanted to look away, but found her eyes frozen in place. A scream tore from her throat, which was drowned out by Zuko’s own cries of agony. 

She’d made the biggest mistake of her life. All at once, it was clear to her that there would be no redeeming Ozai; not now, and not ever. 

_Everything she thought she’d known had been wrong._

When the smell hit her, she was indeed sick. Then her vision started blacking out around the edges, and she pitched forward. 

**PRESENT**

Shiza stood in the bathroom, doing last-minute checks to make sure everything was as it should be. Her reflection in the mirror showed a round baby-face, contrasted with eyes that were filled with a hardness beyond her years. Although she was only twenty, sometimes she felt decades older. She took a moment to lean her forehead against the cool tiles and take deep breaths. There would be no going back now. She would have liked more time to finalize her plan, but it was what it was. 

After she’d judged herself to be reasonably collected, she walked out, urging her boys to take one last trip to the bathroom before they left. That achieved, she cracked open her door, checked to see that the hall was empty, and started walking. 

They made an uneventful trek through the palace and down the long, colonnaded front hall. The main doors were so heavy that Shiza briefly had to let go of her sons’ hands to push the doors open with all her strength. 

They were out. That was Step One down, at least. 

On any other day, this would have been a perfectly pleasant outing. The temperature outside wasn’t nearly as hot or humid as it typically was this time of year, and the shade as the moon started to move over the sun made it even more agreeable. Everything seemed peaceful up here, and so quiet that Shiza swore she could hear their footsteps echo. As they got closer to the lip of the Caldera, though, she could hear the sounds of battle below. 

She had been hoping beyond hope that the gatehouse, the only feasible way out of the Caldera with two small children, was unoccupied, and her heart sank when she saw that there was indeed still a guard there. She considered finding somewhere to hide until he retreated during the eclipse, but he spotted them before she could move. 

What was she going to do? She’d never had to deal with gatehouse guards before, since she was always in a palanquin when she passed through and her attendants took care of everything. Her only option was to improvise. 

“Good morning, sir,” she said, putting on her best courtly smile. “Please let my sons and I through.” 

“No one’s allowed out,” the guard said in a bored voice. Shiza forced her smile to not falter. 

“You don’t understand. My husband is waiting for us outside, and I’m running late. You know how it is, getting small children ready.” 

“Well, I don’t have children, so I wouldn’t know. Now go find shelter somewhere like you’re supposed to. You can catch up with your husband later.” 

This wasn’t working. 

“Please let us through,” Shiza repeated, a note of desperation creeping into her voice despite her best efforts. 

The guard’s face hardened. 

“Look. I’ll help you find somewhere safe to stay, all right? But I am not, under any circumstances, letting you through.” 

He paused, looking at Zoren and Teza, then back at Shiza. 

“Wait a minute. I recognize you. You don’t have a husband at all, do you? You’re one of those concubine girls. Those children are not your property. You’re stealing from the Fire Lord!” he raised his voice. “Stop! Thief!” 

As quick as a flash, Shiza had her knife out from where it had been hastily bound to her thigh, hidden by folds of fabric. She _had_ stolen from the palace; just not in the way that the guard thought. Before he could react, she pivoted and slashed at the first thing she could reach: _his_ thigh. 

The guard went down. Had she managed to get deep enough to hit an artery? She couldn’t afford to stay long enough to find out. 

“Help! I’m injured! I need backup!” the guard shouted. Shiza ran for her life. Going down the main road was not an option, of course; they’d have to climb down the unleveled part of the mountain. At least going downhill added to their momentum. 

They ran as long as they possibly could, until Teza’s legs faltered and Shiza was forced to stop to pick him up. She looked behind them; it appeared that no one had deemed her important enough to pursue for the time being. 

She shuddered as the magnitude of what she’d done caught up with her. She, the tiny cute little Flutterbat, had just gravely injured a man who was simply trying to do his job; might have even _killed_ him. It was her hope that her children were too young to fully grasp what had just occurred. But one look at Zoren, normally so cheerful and upbeat, dashed that hope. His eyes were wide and glassy from shock. 

“Mommy, why’s it getting dark out? I don’t like it!” he said tremulously. 

Shiza answered, “The eclipse will be starting soon. We have to keep moving.” She couldn’t help the note of annoyance that slipped into her voice. Their lives were at stake, and he chose now to be afraid of the dark for the first time in his life? 

They picked their way down the slope, at one point narrowly avoiding a large hole that had been blasted into the mountainside. Zoren’s emotional status continued to deteriorate as the moon advanced further. 

"I don’t like the ‘clipse, Mommy! I’m cold!” he sobbed. Shiza felt as though she’d been punched in the gut as she realized that she had made yet another gigantic mistake: she had failed to take Zoren’s firebender status into account while planning an escape attempt during which the sun would be fully covered for a time. They had no choice but to stop again, although she continued to keep a wary eye out on the way they had come. She crouched down and gave her older son a quick hug. 

“Honey, I know it feels bad. But it’ll all be over in a few minutes,” she assured him, all the while cursing herself. Of _course_ this would bother him! How had that managed to slip her mind? She could feel how shaky his body was as she embraced him. So much for her being a good mommy. 

Teza, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be bothered by the eclipse at all. 

Only a small sliver of sun remained uncovered as they set off again. Her body ached from the fatigue of carrying Teza in one arm while dragging a nearly hysterical Zoren along with the other, and she was starting to cry herself, but she knew she had no choice but to keep pressing on. However, she was so preoccupied with making sure they weren’t being followed that she didn’t pay attention to how much she was moving sideways. She didn’t notice that she’d wandered within sight of the main road until the army of Water Tribe savages was almost on top of her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, parts of this were emotionally challenging to write, and I felt pretty evil putting all the Zuko scenes in there when we all know what happened to him.
> 
> ETA: Okay, I think I suceeded in getting rid of that herd of wild italics! AO3 has a lot of advantages over FF.net, but the method for posting new stories/chapters is not one of them.


	6. Naoko II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that, in case anyone missed it, I did end up posting Chapter 5 early. I was originally intending this chapter to be Chapter 7, but I decided that the one that was originally Chapter 6 needed some more work.

**PAST**

Things were going even better than Naoko had anticipated. She loved her new role, loved the Fire Lord, and, perhaps most importantly of all, loved having sex with the Fire Lord. He proved to be as ravenous as he was amorous, and her passions ran high after years of forced suppression. It was all so natural, really. The artists and writers always made sex sound like some super-refined thing with all those dumb flower metaphors. What a shock those people would get if they happened to witness Naoko telling her lover in no uncertain terms just how badly she’d wanted him that day, or begging him to fuck her harder! When she mentioned this to Ozai one night over their drinks, he laughed and agreed.

The Fire Lord compensated her well for her services, giving her countless gifts of dazzling jewelry. Unlike Shiza, she could actually wear them without looking ridiculous. However, she was always careful to ensure that her parents reaped their rewards as well. Within a month, her father got money and land to build an even more luxurious residence than before back on Shuhon and attach a wing to their Caldera mansion. Naoko quickly developed a signature look: diamonds to show off her wealth, gowns with low-cut necklines to display her beauty, and hair piled high to make her height even more intimidating than it was previously. No matter whether she was on the Fire Lord’s arm, or in his lap, or in his bed, she was always the perfect ornament. Everyone wanted to copy her, but no one could _be_ her. 

Her favorite activity, after pleasuring the Fire Lord, was to torment Shiza. Getting a rise out of her was so easy. No matter how many indignant squeaks the younger girl made, or how much time she spent with that hilarious little frown on her face, there was nothing she could do about Naoko’s ascendancy. Why should Ozai bother with that girl-child when he could have a real woman, and one who was a witty conversationalist to boot? Shiza wouldn’t be able to converse her way out of a paper bag. And Naoko always knew exactly when to talk, and when to keep silent lest Ozai get angry at her.

She discerned that another of Ozai’s criteria for a real woman was one who could hold her liquor. He was fond of his evening sake (in addition to the many types of intoxicating beverage available at dinner), and expected Naoko to match him drink for drink. This was yet another area in which Shiza, who probably weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet, would never be able to outperform her. When Ozai regaled her with the story of how the girl had been out cold before she even finished her second drink, Naoko laughed until she cried. 

“You know you don’t have to get me drunk for me to put out, right?” she said one night, her words more than slightly slurred, as he stumbled to bed with her.

“Yes,” he admitted. “But it’s more fun this way.”

And he was right! Drinking _was_ fun, now that her tolerance for it was building. Sometimes, though, she still blacked out, waking up the next morning with big dark bruises on her thighs, and wondered just what had happened while she was out. It never hurt as much after the nights she did remember. But so what if Ozai had decided to be a little rougher than usual? A little soreness now and then was a fair price to pay in exchange for the vast pleasure she got.

One morning, the fun abruptly ended. Father burst into her room while she was nursing a hangover, and forbade any further imbibing.

“You fool! Have you forgotten that you’re supposed to be conceiving?” he hissed. “You could be pregnant _now_ for all you know. The Fire Lord won’t like it if his child is any less than perfect.”

As it turned out, Naoko had not been pregnant at that moment. But the next month, she was. When she wordlessly took Ozai’s hand and placed it on her abdomen one night, he was happy, as she knew he would be. Her own feelings were a little more mixed. She wanted to _give_ the Fire Lord a child, of course, but she quickly found that the business of _producing_ one was a huge bother. Every time she caught a glimpse of her naked reflection in a mirror, all bloated like breeding livestock, she shuddered. How Ozai could find this attractive, she’d never know. She had servants to do everything else for her; wouldn’t it be wonderful if she could just make one of them suffer from the swollen feet and heartburn and the very unladylike dark spots on her face? What was more, she found the restrictions of no drinking and no firebending to be exceedingly tedious. 

However, she couldn’t let anyone realize the true extent of this burden, least of all Ozai. So she covered up the spots with powder, slapped a smile on her face, and conspicuously cradled her belly whenever in public, so all the denizens of the court could see what a happy and eager mother-to-be she was. 

Despite the unpleasantness of her condition, her feelings towards the man who had caused it were unchanged. Naoko would do anything for him. _Anything._ If that meant making out with Shiza like they did this every night, then going down on the smaller woman while watching her face contort with despair, then so be it. That greedy bitch deserved it anyway, trying to outdo Naoko by conceiving when she already _had_ a child. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

On a fine early spring day, Naoko’s daughter came into the world, her first cries loud and imperious. She appeared completely healthy in every way, and tipped the scales at over eight and a half pounds. Seemingly as a reward for Naoko having to endure the humiliation of pregnancy, the birth had gone astonishingly quickly. Only around seven hours had passed from first real contraction to final push.

“Finally! An easy birth for once!” Dr. Huang said. He placed the baby in Naoko’s arms, and she marveled at her daughter’s fine black hair and round cheeks and tiny hands. 

“Congratulations, honey!” Mother said. “That is a child that any Fire Lord would be proud to acknowledge.” 

“Surely you never doubted me, Mother,” Naoko replied. 

Mother assured her, “No. Never.”

Dr. Huang sent the message-runner who had been on standby to find the Fire Lord and tell him the news. At first glance, things seemed just as they should be in the birthing room. That horrible disgusting thing that Dr. Huang had called the “afterbirth” had been disposed of, and the group of attendants that Mother had hand-selected for this event were scurrying around plumping pillows, adding blankets to the bed, and spoon-feeding Naoko some komodo chicken broth. However, there was a hint of underlying tension underneath. Naoko had first become faintly aware of the hubbub in the hallway while she was pushing. At the time, she’d been too busy remembering to make little ladylike moans instead of screaming to pay much attention. But a short while later, as her baby was being cleaned, she was able to discern someone saying Prince Zuko’s name.

Something big had happened, there was no doubt about that. But what?

Then, just after Naoko had passed the baby over to the wet nurse for her first feeding, someone knocked loudly on the door.

“Honestly, how _rude!_ ” Mother fumed. She immediately walked to the door and opened it.

“How dare you intrude on us like this? My daughter has just given birth. Show some respect!” she snapped. 

“I'm very sorry, My Lady,” came a male voice from the hallway. “But Dr. Huang is needed in the infirmary.”

Mother’s face was mostly turned away from Naoko, but Naoko knew that the expression on her face would be one of deepest scorn. 

“Well, they can’t have him! What part of ‘my daughter has just given birth’ do you not understand, you imbecile?!”

However, the intruder refused to back down.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, this may be a matter of life and death!” he insisted. That finally got Dr. Huang’s attention. 

“Excuse me,” he said to Mother as he walked to the door. Then, “Yes? What is it?”

The messenger spoke in almost a whisper. Naoko couldn’t make out the words, but she saw Mother go pale. 

“Tell them I’ll be right there,” Dr. Huang said. After apologizing deeply to Naoko, he quickly packed his bag and left. 

Naoko burst into tears. This was supposed to be _her_ day, and they were ruining it!

“Oh, sweetie. Everything will be fine,” Mother said as she rushed back to the bedside. “There has been…an incident, but nothing you need to worry about right now.”

Despite her mother’s best attempts at soothing her, Naoko’s mind whirred with possibilities. Was this a coup? Or maybe an assassination attempt? Was the Fire Lord safe?

“The Fire Lord is unhurt,” Mother told her, as if reading her thoughts. “Why, I’m sure he’ll get here any time now!”

But Naoko could not relax until she saw Ozai for herself. She was forced to wait and wait and wait some more, her stomach twisting itself into a knot that had nothing to do with postpartum cramps. Although it actually wasn’t that long before the door finally swung open, every minute had felt like an hour to her. The Fire Lord ran on in without observing any of the niceties; he hadn’t even sent a messenger ahead of him. He was naked above the waist except for the pair of armbands he always wore under his robes, his hair had come undone, he smelled of smoke and sweat, and his eyes darted wildly. 

“Where is my daughter?” he demanded. Naoko had never seen him in such a state of disarray. He wasn’t mad at her, was he?

“Right here, my lord,” the baby’s nurse murmured while handing the bundle over. She, Mother, and the other attendants discreetly departed.

“Heavy,” Ozai commented in a calmer tone, making sure that the baby's head was situated securely in the crook of his elbow. “And well-formed. Just like Azula was. I can see that same spark in her eyes.” He began to walk toward the bed, his pace deliberate. 

“Do you know what day this is?” he asked Naoko.

“No, Fire Lord,” she answered; she was smart enough to know that he didn’t want her to answer with something stupid like today’s date or “the day our child was born.”

“Today,” he said, sitting on the corner of the bed, “is the day that I finally got rid of my weak and disrespectful son.”

 _Prince Zuko._ The name went unspoken.

“Is he dead?” Naoko asked, keeping her tone light and curious. Ozai laughed, the sound a low rumble in his throat.

“No, he is not. Unfortunately,” he replied. “Merely gravely injured. He dishonored himself by having the audacity to think that he knew better than a general with decades of experience, and then compounded his transgressions when he refused to fight me. I had no choice but to banish him. As soon as he is stabilized, he will depart this country, never to return.”

Naoko gasped. “That little brat! I never liked him! Oh, I wish I could have been there to see him be put in his place, but I can just imagine it!”

“Oh?” Ozai asked as he looked down at their daughter. “And what, exactly, do you imagine?”

“ _Glory_ ,” Naoko breathed. 

Ozai snorted. “Hardly. The boy was a sniveling mess, and he screamed and soiled himself during his punishment. At any rate…today will be remembered and celebrated for generations to come, in more ways than one. This is truly another daughter born lucky. _She_ is no weakling.”

“Have you thought of a name?” Naoko prompted.

“Eri. A special name that I was saving for a special child,” Ozai responded immediately. That was the name of Fire Lord Sozin’s firstborn, who had grown up to wield tremendous amounts of power and influence; one of the great women of Fire Nation history. 

Naoko felt choked up with emotion, and all she could say in response was a whispered “Thank you” as she dabbed at her eyes with the blanket corner. 

“She appears to be destined to accomplish great things, and I will expect regular updates on her development,” her hopefully soon-to-be husband continued as he gave Eri back to the nurse. Then, seemingly to himself, he added, “If _that_ isn’t a strong enough sign for the damn Fire Sages, I don’t know what is.”

Naoko didn’t understand, but neither did she care. She had a huge smile on her face as Ozai kissed her and took his leave. This had gone well even beyond her wildest dreams. The day had started out so uncertainly, but now it had proven to be the happiest one in her life. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being a mother wasn’t that bad. Naoko could play with Eri, cuddle her, have her dressed in pretty little outfits to match her own, and then as soon as the baby got hungry or dirtied her diaper or started crying for some unknown other reason, the nurse would immediately take care of it. She couldn’t believe that Shiza had actually insisted on nursing her own baby like some kind of _peasant._ Disgusting.

Naoko bounced back from childbirth quickly, and had started making public appearances again in less than a month. Just days after she was cleared to resume intercourse, Shiza gave birth to her second child, so Naoko had Ozai all to herself…at least in theory. In practice, it didn’t seem like he was asking for her much more than he had previously. Evidently, Shiza had not been stealing her time away after all. Every few months, a noble girl would bear another one of Ozai's acknowledged children, but none of them so far had been able to become a new favorite. They were all sent back home after giving birth, and thus of little consequence in the long run. Perhaps the Fire Lord was busy with random servant girls; there certainly were enough of them with belly bumps at any given time. 

When Ozai did request her presence, he always asked how Eri was doing, true to his word. Naoko, who like any respectable Fire Nation lady was reasonably competent at drawing, got into the habit of making frequent quick sketches of her daughter, so she’d have a new picture to present to him every time. Naturally, she loved that Ozai was showing such fascination with their child, but…sometimes it almost seemed like he was more interested in the baby than he was in Naoko herself. Usually, a drink or two would take care of that feeling if it got too bothersome.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

On Naoko’s eighteenth birthday, the weather was great; cooler than high summer, but not yet with the chill of autumn. She decided that she would take the now six-month-old Eri on a walk in the gardens. Naoko pushed the baby carriage herself, observing amusedly how her daughter, propped up on pillows, watched everything with an avid gaze. (The nurse was walking a few steps behind in case something happened.)

They stopped at the turtleduck pond, Naoko directing the nurse on where exactly to place the towel for Eri to sit on. The baby was situated on the towel in a sitting position, one of her pillows providing support, and Naoko backed away, trying various locations, until she found the exact right angle. The nurse handed Naoko her sketchbook and brush, and mixed up the ink. Naoko was just putting the tip of the ink brush to paper when:

“It’s not going to work, you know.” The voice was unmistakable; Naoko didn’t have to look behind her to know that the Princess Azula was standing behind her. She had no choice but to put her brush away and bow.

“Father will never marry you, so you should save your energy,” Azula continued, deliberately not giving Naoko leave to rise. “He’s simply fond of your bastard spawn…that’s all. It means nothing in the long term. You may try to outdo me, but all you’ll ever be is a pale imitation.”

She kept Naoko on her knees for another several minutes, saying nothing further. When she did finally allow Naoko to rise, she saw to her chagrin that Eri had moved slightly, and now the picture wouldn’t look nearly as good. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

A little over a month later, it was time for the princess to have _her_ birthday; her twelfth. After the obligatory feast and presentation of gifts, Naoko was sitting around pleasantly buzzed on plum wine when the Fire Lord shot a stream of flame toward the ceiling to get everyone’s attention. 

“Thank you,” he said, once all eyes were turned towards him. He rose from his chair, surprisingly non-wobbly tonight. (Perhaps he was saving the bulk of his drinking for after this?)

“I have a special announcement to make,” he went on. “Princess Azula, would you please rise?”

She did, already smiling in anticipation of whatever he was going to say; the two of them must have worked this out beforehand. 

“As you all know,” Ozai said, “The Crown Princess is wise and talented beyond her years, as well as perfectly dutiful and loyal to her father. And now that she is twelve, I have deemed it time for her to assume new responsibilities. Princess, show the court where you will be sitting from now on.”

Azula slowly walked exactly one seat to her left and sat down. _The Fire Lady’s chair!_ It had never been occupied during Ozai’s reign…not until now, at least. 

Ozai explained, “She is hereby put in charge of planning all social events at the palace, and will serve as regent in my absence. And I am certain that everyone will treat her with all of the deference due to her in her new position, even though she does not carry the official title. Just to be sure no one forgets…”

He retrieved a small box from his pocket, which proved to contain a hairpiece of pure gold, and undid the plain red one that the princess was currently wearing. Once the new one was in its rightful place, Ozai remained standing behind Azula, fingers of one hand still resting on the crown of her head. 

“This is an honor beyond measure,” Azula proclaimed. “It is my most fervent desire to serve my Fire Lord in any way that I can.”

Ozai’s free hand squeezed her shoulder. “It will be a lot of work.”

“I am ready,” Azula assured him, smile broadening. 

“Excellent,” Ozai replied. Then, to the audience, “You will now all pay your respects to the Crown Princess.”

They all obediently bowed. As she was lowering her head, Naoko snuck a peek of Ozai whispering something into Azula’s ear, and the princess giving a little nod. 

By the time they were allowed back up, Naoko was fuming. 

_Ugh. That chair is supposed to be_ mine!

She snuck a glance over at Shiza, who she expected to be similarly irritated…finally, something they could agree upon. To her confusion, though, the expression on her rival’s face was not one of annoyance, but of abject horror.

**PRESENT**

This was _stupid._ Naoko hadn’t realized that waiting the eclipse out in a bunker would be so incredibly dull. Fire Lord Sozin had evidently not had the potential for brain atrophy in mind when he designed this structure. In addition, the heat from the magma had been tolerable at first due to a firebender’s natural resistance, but it was less and less so as the eclipse became imminent. Sweat beaded on her forehead, dampened her meticulously-styled hair, and was beginning to run down her face, carving swathes in her makeup. Was a servant to fan her too much to ask?!

She needed a drink, and not just of water. She hadn’t had time for her usual morning sake before her escort had arrived, and her hands were starting to get a slight tremor. 

Suddenly…footsteps, coming slowly down the hall. Naoko sprang up, preparing to fight whoever it was if they blundered into her room. Unfortunately, she was only able to produce sparks, which faded to nothing even as she was watching. She did have the large and sharp hairpin, but she didn’t want to take that out unless it was an emergency; the whole structure might collapse that way. At any case, the footsteps continued past her, and she was spared the mortification of ruining her hair any more than it already was. They were heading…towards Ozai’s room? Who on the outside knew he was even here?

Naoko got her answer as she heard a door slide open. 

“Prince Zuko. What are you doing here?” Ozai asked. Oh no, not him. Zuko had always detested her as much as Azula did. However, Naoko could at least grudgingly respect the princess for being a talented bender and taking up the time to think up good insults. Unlike his sister, Zuko would simply refuse to interact with Naoko at all. And now, he had left his room in the bunker, defying direct orders, to complain about whatever thing was running through his puny brain today. Naoko dashed over to the thick stone wall, placing her ear flat against it, in hopes of being able to hear Zuko getting into big trouble more clearly. She was still disappointed about missing the Agni Kai, but perhaps this would make up for it.

“…Here to tell the truth,” Zuko was saying.

Naoko stifled a laugh. The truth about what, exactly? That he was still a loser, Avatar-slayer or not? She already knew that. 

Then there were more footsteps as Ozai’s guards left the room (which made Naoko feel a little uneasy). Unfortunately, the noise as they entered the hallway drowned out almost all of what Zuko said next. Naoko could only make out the words “Azula” and “Avatar.” Did that mean…Azula had killed the Avatar? Honestly, Naoko wasn’t surprised. The last she’d seen, Prince Zuko could barely firebend without tripping over his own feet. She’d thought the story had seemed fishy from the start.

Ozai inquired why Azula would lie to him about that. 

“Because the Avatar’s not dead. He survived,” Zuko replied. Naoko clapped a hand over her mouth. How long had he known that?! Was Azula aware, or had Zuko been keeping it from her as well? In any case, withholding information of such importance was treason. She was expecting–and hoping–that Ozai would call his guards back in and have this traitorous child of his executed on the spot. Naoko would have been happy to do the deed herself if the door to her room wasn’t sealed. But Ozai took no action other than to yell at Zuko to get out.

There came a noise that sounded suspiciously like swords being drawn. Naoko began to genuinely fear for Ozai’s life. What was wrong with him? His son had now committed treason twice over, and he was just…letting him. Why?

She soon got her answer: Zuko was too much of a coward, as well as too much in love with the sound of his own voice, to go through with killing his father. And Ozai knew this.

There was no need for her to strain her ears to hear what came next. Zuko whined for so long in that annoying voice of his, seemingly about everything slightly bad that had happened to him ever, that Naoko began to tune it out. Ozai had had to teach _her_ respect once too, and she didn’t go around complaining about it!

And thirteen-year-olds weren’t _children;_ at least not in their social circle. She scoffed. Why, she’d been thirteen when she’d first caught Ozai’s attention, and she would happily have married and bedded him in that very reception hall if Ursa hadn’t been in the way. And speaking of Ursa…

Naoko had heard the rumors that the woman had been involved in Azulon’s death, of course. Everyone knew that the former Fire Lord had been declining mentally for years before his death. She’d assumed that Ursa had just gotten sick of the senile and unpredictable old man, offed him, and was dumb enough to get caught at it. However, she was surprised to learn that it was all because Azulon ordered Ozai to kill Zuko for some reason. What an imbecile. She should have just waited until the next morning; the old geezer would likely have forgotten the whole thing by then.

A voice whispered in the back of her head: _Wouldn’t you have done the same for Eri?_

That was different. Eri was actually worth something. 

She let out a sigh of relief as she began to feel the fire within her reigniting. At the same time, Ozai saw his opportunity to deal with the traitorous prince once and for all.

“Now I realize that banishment is far too merciful a penalty for treason,” he said. “Your penalty will be far steeper.”

_Yesyesyes…_

Then there came an extraordinarily loud sound from the next room. Naoko screamed as the shockwaves knocked her off her feet. And then…silence, except for the ringing in her ears. No screams of pain from Zuko, no triumphant laughter from Ozai...nothing.

_What had happened?_


	7. Mizuki II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Friday once again! And I don't really have anything else to say!
> 
> WARNINGS: Implied rape (although the OC is pretty ambivalent about admitting it). Suicidal thoughts leading up to an interrupted attempt.

**PAST**

Time flew by, and before she knew it, Mizuki had been at the palace for over a month. The work was hard, but no day was ever boring. The clashing of humongous egos, chefs narrowly avoiding bumping into each other while running around with large hot pans, and melodrama whenever someone cut or burned themselves saw to that. She was getting along well with Ayosa, too. One day, Mizuki had been having difficulty getting out of bed due to particularly bad cramps (which was hardly something that a kitchen full of manly men would understand), and the older woman had been right there with a cup of willow bark tea.

“It’s nothing. Just one woman looking out for another!” Ayosa said when Mizuki thanked her. She was a little nosy, perhaps, but appeared to have the best of intentions.

Mizuki had started to notice some odd things about this place, though. There was that strange group of children she often saw, some as young as two or three, who were led by a woman who only looked to be in her early twenties. When she asked Ayosa about it, her mentor had told her that they were some of the Fire Lord’s illegitimate children, selected to live on the palace grounds due to their prowess in firebending. Apparently, it was a great honor, but those poor kids seemed to spend all of their time marching and drilling and sparring. It reminded Mizuki more of the Junior Army Corps that Daichi went to after school than any sort of privileged group. 

She was pretty sure that this place was haunted, judging by all the eerie distant moans and wails she heard during the night. Also, there seemed to be an extraordinarily large number of servant girls in the palace who were pregnant. And they really were girls; none of them appeared to be much older than Mizuki, and one even looked younger. If it were one or even two, it wouldn’t have been any big deal, but Mizuki counted _four_. And those were only the ones whose condition was visible. The identity of the father, or fathers, remained a mystery. When she’d asked Ayosa about it, her mentor had simply shushed her. Same with the weird sounds.

 _Maybe all the animals in the palace are pregnant too, she thought. Maybe the_ furniture _is pregnant!_ She smiled to herself while absorbed in her current task of candying rose petals. There was a big event coming up: the banquet to celebrate the betrothal of the Princess Azula to Captain Zhao. Everything had to be perfect at a gala such as this, even the garnishes. Her father had served under this Zhao before, and had many things to say about him during the times he was back at home, none which were favorable. Dad would flip his shit once he heard that Zhao got to marry the heir to the throne. 

Also, was she the only person in this entire palace who thought that a thirteen-year-old girl being engaged to a forty-eight-year-old man was all kinds of disgusting and wrong?!

“Well, hello there. Mizuki, isn’t it?” 

She jumped. Speaking of which, the princess had somehow managed to sneak into the kitchens, and had been standing behind Mizuki for some indeterminate length of time. However, Mizuki recovered quickly, turned, and inclined her head.

“Sorry I can’t do a proper bow, Princess. My hands are full at the moment,” she explained, gesturing with the huge metal sheet she was holding. 

Azula didn’t answer this.

“What are you doing?” she asked. 

“Candying rose petals. They use them to garnish cakes and tarts,” Mizuki replied, belatedly remembering to add in “Princess.”

Azula wrinkled her nose. “My associate Mai likes those. I just pick them off.” Obviously, she was hoping to hurt Mizuki’s feelings and get a rise out of her. But Mizuki was determined to not let that happen. 

“I don’t like them much either,” she said, which was the truth. Azula’s eyes narrowed briefly.

“Father says that you’re good at demonstrations,” she said carefully. “I would like one as well. How are these made?”

Mizuki decided to humor her. Could it be that underneath the aloof manner and caustic words, the princess was nothing but a scared child looking for a distraction from her upcoming betrothal?

“Well,” Mizuki began, “First you have to take the petals off the flower, wash and dry them, and remove the white part at the bottom because it’s bitter. And then, you pick up each rose petal–very carefully, so it doesn’t get bruised, and brush egg white on it.” She demonstrated this, using the almost impossibly fine-pointed brush that had been made specifically for such delicate activity. “Then you dip each side of the petal into a bowl of superfine sugar…as so…and put them somewhere to dry.”

“I never knew that such work went into creating something that many people won’t even eat. It seems an exercise in futility,” Azula remarked.

Mizuki shrugged. “It’s either that or the fruit, Princess.”

“I see,” Azula said, drawing the words out. “You have drive, I’ll give you that much. If I am not mistaken, you have some family to provide for. You have at least one younger sibling, and your father is…dead? No, alive but absent.”

 _How did she know this?_ Was the princess really that intuitive, or had she simply snuck a look at Mizuki’s file and was pretending to be some kind of mind-reader to intimidate her?

“Yes, Princess. He’s in the Navy,” she replied cautiously.

Azula smirked. “Just as I thought. It’s too bad that you’re not following him there; you have the potential to rise high in the rankings. Instead, you are wasting your talents on food.”

Mizuki didn’t know how to respond to that other than another, “Yes, Princess.” 

“Whatever,” Azula snapped. “I shall leave you to your rose petals now; otherwise there may not be enough for me to pick off.” She departed as silently as she’d arrived. 

Well. That was something. Were visitations by royals going to become commonplace for her?

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

After days of stress and working overtime, all of the desserts had been prepared for the banquet (including a sufficient amount of rose petals). When the big night arrived, Mizuki thought she could finally relax a bit. To her disappointment, though, Ayosa notified her that her presence as a server at the banquet had been specifically requested. Ugh…that had been exactly the type of work that she’d been trying to avoid when she went to culinary school! Probably it was Azula trying to get under her skin for not being perfectly respectful, she thought.

So here she was. Her feet ached from all the standing, and although she was decently in-shape, she knew her shoulders were going to be sore tomorrow from lifting heavy trays. At least there was a lot of interesting stuff to see.

There was Princess Azula up at the high table, wearing a lavish crimson robe and a forced smile. Her face had been painted to make her look older than she actually was. The guy next to her talking her ear off was obviously Captain Zhao. Dad was right; he _did_ look like a badgerfrog.

Shrill laughter from the next table down caught Mizuki’s ear, and she turned her attention from the mismatched couple to a lady whose hairstyle made it look like she was wearing a scorpion beehive on her head. Her cheeks were flushed, likely from the liquor she was currently taking a swig of, and she had a toddler on her lap, to whom she was paying no attention. Mizuki frowned. First of all, what was such a small child doing at an event like this? Secondly, the little girl looked alarmingly pale. Scorpion Beehive Lady’s eyes met hers briefly, and they were not at all friendly. Okay, who had peed in _her_ soup?

Everyone at that table appeared to similarly be having lively, alcohol-fueled conversations with each other…except for one. One petite, sad-looking young woman had nothing but water in her goblet, and she kept her eyes fixed on her plate. Wait a minute…Mizuki recognized her. She was the lady she often saw watching off in the distance as the royal bastards were making their rounds, always looking in particular at the cute little boy who usually had a big smile on his face. 

Could she possibly be that boy’s mother? She looked very young for it.

“Psst! Quit slacking off! They want you up at the high table!” whispered a fellow waiter. Seriously? Why her? There were other people who had the same selection of items on their trays that were closer. 

“Well, look who it is,” The Fire Lord said as Mizuki ascended the steps to the dais. “Our resident knife expert.” He looked at her for quite a bit longer than was absolutely necessary. One of Azula’s friends made a quiet scoff. 

“No knives today, unfortunately,” she said politely. _Don’t let him get to you. Just focus on being professional._ Proffering her enormous tray of bite-sized sweets so everyone could take what they wanted, she said, “Okay. For dessert today, we have manju, daifuku, sesame balls, custard tarts, fruit tarts with candied rose petals, tapioca cookies, almond cookies, figs in syrup, lychees in syrup…no syrup in syrup, though; that would be pretty messy…”

_Dammit, Mizuki, that was not professional!_

Azula’s other friend, a girl of about nine or ten who looked a lot like the princess, started giggling at that last one. 

“It wasn’t _that_ funny, Ruanyu,” Azula grumbled. 

Once everyone had made their choices, Mizuki turned to head back down the steps, only for a commotion to erupt below them. The little girl who she thought had looked ill had thrown up on the table, and people nearby were jumping from their seats before it could get on their clothes. 

The Fire Lord was incensed.

“HOW _DARE_ SHE EMBARRASS ME LIKE THAT?” he yelled, so loudly that the entire room fell silent. He shot out of his seat, bumping Mizuki’s elbow and nearly making her drop her tray. Scorpion Beehive Lady thrust her daughter into the arms of the nearest server, and tried to make a hasty retreat to the exit. However, her gait was unsteady, giving the Fire Lord plenty of time to pursue close behind. There were some ominous thumps and more yelling once they were outside the room, including a _very_ bad word. After a while, the guests merely ignored it and started talking again. Azula looked happy for the first time all night.

What sort of place _was_ this? 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Although Mizuki was tired to the bone, she didn’t get much sleep that night. She was too shaken by what she’d witnessed. The Fire Lord had flown off the handle, in public, with absolutely no warning. He’d come across as more of a tantruming five-year-old than a monarch approaching middle age. And he’d called the poor woman _that_ word. No one deserved that, not even this woman, who had looked at Mizuki like she was turtleduck shit on the bottom of her shoe. Judging by the courtiers’ jadedness, this wasn’t the first time that something similar had happened. She even briefly wondered if she should ask for permission to go home early, but this had been the chance of a lifetime, and she wanted to see it through to the end. There were only three weeks left, after all. 

Thankfully, the next day was a slow one. They’d had Mizuki chopping fruit and vegetables again, but this time she found the familiar work soothing. 

When the main kitchen closed at sundown (there was always a skeleton crew available in case a royal or noble wanted a midnight snack), Mizuki hung up her apron and walked back to the dormitory. She wanted nothing more than to catch up on her sleep from last night, but when she got to the room, a female servant was waiting by her bed. 

“The Fire Lord requests your presence in his rooms,” she said calmly, as if this was a routine occurrence. And maybe it was.

_Welp._

Obviously, the Fire Lord wasn’t looking to have a chat or play Pai Sho, and Mizuki was perfectly aware of what he _did_ want. Although she was still a virgin in the way that counted to the old-fashioned people here, she’d had many makeout sessions with Jia, some quite hot and heavy. She’d masturbated to orgasm a few times before as well, and often snuck peeks at dirty books when she was supposed to be shopping for school supplies. If the Fire Lord wanted a blushing maiden who was totally innocent of the ways of the flesh, he would have to look elsewhere.

“Could I just…not go?” she inquired.

The servant blinked in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you? It’s a great honor, and will help advance your career.”

Mizuki took this to mean that if she didn’t go, the Fire Lord would actively work to sabotage her career. She decided to go.

As soon as she was allowed into the Fire Lord’s room and had bowed, she started stripping before he’d even had a chance to say anything.

The Fire Lord raised an eyebrow. “Eager, are we?”

Yes, but not necessarily in the way he thought. 

What happened next was neither better nor worse than Mizuki had expected. Later, back in her own bed, she curled up, imagining what she might say to friends who asked how her summer had gone. 

“ _Nothing major. The most important man in the world put his penis into my vagina, that’s all. How was_ your _summer?_ ”

She wasn’t certain whether to start laughing hysterically or burst into tears. In the end, she did neither.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was somehow able to get some sleep, and reported to the kitchens as usual the next morning. During her lunch break, she was accosted by Scorpion Beehive Lady.

“You need to learn your place!” the woman shouted at Mizuki, her thick makeup not quite successful in hiding her black eye and swollen cheek. “You’re nothing but a common whore, and you could never hope to compete with the likes of me!”

Word sure got around fast here.

“Nor do I want to,” Mizuki said. This woman obviously liked to pick fights, but Mizuki had no desire to be drawn into this bullshit. Beehive Lady appeared unsure how to respond to someone who just ignored her, and finally walked away in a huff. Mizuki didn’t run into her again; Ayosa said she’d been banished from court.

Despite Mizuki’s rather apathetic performance, the Fire Lord called her back for several encores. It wasn’t so bad, especially as long as she could occupy herself with reciting recipes in her head. When it came down to it, he was a man like any other, albeit taller and more muscular than most. He was utterly lacking in imagination, made ridiculous faces when he came, and usually fell asleep right after and snored. Loudly. Doubtlessly, he was used to girls overlooking all this because they were too busy swooning over his physique and his, erm, meat mallet (she’d taken to calling it that because he used it with a similar amount of force). _She_ would give him no such satisfaction.

“What an exotic creature you are,” he remarked after one session. _Exotic?_ Because of her darker skin, perhaps? That was dumb. She was every bit as Fire Nation as he was! As usual, she looked away and said nothing.

Finally, he got tired of her lack of response either way, and things were wrapping up for her internship. She was beginning to think she could actually get through this in one piece and put it behind her. And then, the day before she left, someone cut into a durian in the kitchen, causing Mizuki to clap a hand over her mouth and run for the bathroom.

 _Please don’t let this be what I’m worried it is,_ she thought as she vomited. When was her last…? Counting backwards, she figured out that it had been five weeks ago, and her cycle had been 29 or 30 days pretty dependably for well over a year now.

The door creaked open. 

“Are you all right?” Ayosa asked. “I keep telling them not to cut those things open inside, but they never listen!”

“I’m fine,” Mizuki gasped out. She kind of wished that Ayosa would’ve knocked first.

“Are you sure? I can fetch the doctor if you want me to,” Ayosa went on. Something seemed a little off; she seemed almost…eager. In any case, Mizuki was in no state to figure it out at the moment.

“I guess I just don’t care for durians much,” she said in a deadpan. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

She resolved to pretend that everything was normal. The next day, as she disembarked from the train, she embraced Mom and Daichi, wowing her brother with the story of the knife demonstration she’d done. 

“Wait till I tell Guang and Takao that my sister saw the Fire Lord!” he crowed. 

A couple of weeks later, and it was time to go back to school. The Fire Lord had actually wanted Mizuki to continue working at the palace, but she had insisted on finishing her education first. He hadn’t seemed too happy about that, but had surprisingly let it drop.

Things seemed to be going well. Since everyone wanted to hear the details of her royal internship, she was now the most popular girl at school. She was finishing all her homework and acing the first quizzes of the school year. Her vomiting appeared to be under control enough to keep secret.

Until it wasn’t. 

She’d tried to push on anyway, but one day her mother caught her at it and kept her home from school for the day. Just a stomach bug, she’d said to Mom. Nothing to worry about. 

The next day, she’d convinced Mom that she was ready to go back to school…only for her to pass out in the hallway between classes. Things were a blur from there. The school nurse sent Mizuki to the hospital despite her protests, and from there it was only a matter of time until they figured it out.

_Really, Mizuki. Did you actually expect that you would be able to carry a pregnancy to term and give birth without anyone finding out?_

Suddenly, all those pregnant girls at the palace were a lot less funny.

“It’s all my fault!” Mom said, sobbing excessively loudly at Mizuki’s bedside while the latter was getting intravenous rehydration. “I should never have let you go to that internship. I had my doubts about that from the beginning, but you wanted to go so much and I didn’t want to deprive you of that chance!”

A pause. 

“Mizuki, were you raped?”

“I…I don’t know,” Mizuki answered truthfully. He hadn’t held her down or threatened her life or anything like that. She knew what the consequences of unprotected sex were, and had chosen to do it anyway.

“Well, who was the father, then?” Mom asked. She took time to wipe away a tear and blow her nose, then added, “Maybe we can still press charges because you’re underage.”

Mizuki laughed bitterly. “I doubt that.” She honestly just wanted Mom to leave her alone right now.

“Mizuki. Nobody’s above the law,” Mom said, a hint of exasperation creeping into her tone. 

“One man is.”

“What are you…” Mom began, but broke off as realization hit her. Her face drained of color. She could only get out, “Oh, sweetie…” before she started crying anew. Was she expecting Mizuki to comfort _her_ , instead of the other way around?

Once Mom could talk again, she inquired, “Does he know?” 

“No.”

“Then let’s keep it that way, shall we?” Mom suggested. Just then, the nurse came in to check if Mizuki’s vital signs were stable for discharge, forcing the two of them to suspend their conversation.

Mizuki stared straight ahead the entire time, eyes completely dry. She was Mizuki, tough as nails and calm under pressure, and she _would not cry!_

**PRESENT**

For a while, there was nothing but the sirens outside and the twins’ wailing inside as they sat in the stuffy darkness. Then, Mizuki heard a rumble of what initially sounded like thunder. Although there hadn’t been many clouds in the sky this morning, sudden downpours were far from unheard of on Capital Island. But…no, it was getting louder now. _Much_ louder. And…were those _explosions?_ The one small ground-level window near the ceiling of their basement didn’t show much, but they could both hear and feel the impacts of the projectiles.

The sounds were coming from the Royal Plaza. They were being attacked! On the eclipse, too…but the Fire Lord had to have known about this well beforehand. Otherwise, why the shelter-in-place order? Was he so confident that his army would be victorious that he’d decided not to bother with evacuations? Or did he simply not care whether they lived or died? Well, either way, there was abso-fucking-lutely nothing they could do about it now except hope that their house didn’t get hit.

What if _Dad_ was out there? The last Mizuki knew, he’d been stationed in the colonies, but circumstances being what they were, she wouldn’t be surprised if the Fire Lord had personally called him back. 

Although they couldn’t see it from the basement, Mizuki could tell when the eclipse began, since it caught in her throat like a cold, dead, slimy fish. Daichi was shivering as well. The babies were almost literally screaming their heads off, Mom trying in vain to comfort them. Ignoring them, Mizuki slumped to the floor, wrapped in a blanket.

She pondered how much her life sucked. There was no hope for her. What did she have to look forward to except years of drudgery taking care of children she’d never wanted? Perhaps if it had been one baby she could have managed, but _twins?_ Everything was a whirl of feedings, leading to diaper changes, freeing up room for more feedings…a vicious cycle. Surely no restaurant would ever want to hire her now that she had this baggage. And when they were done being babies, they’d become toddlers that got into everything, then bratty little kids, then even brattier bigger kids. She’d be well into her twenties by the time the twins could take care of themselves enough for her to have a full-time job, and maybe she could find some work then, but it would be too late to start a proper career.

Since Akane and Akemi were born, she’d looked at them over and over again, trying to find anything good in there, but all she could ever see were their father’s golden eyes leering at her. They were more than three months old, and she still had yet to bond with them even one bit. Rather than wanting to comfort them when they cried, she got urges to shake them until they shut up, which she was barely able to resist. _Mother of the fucking year right here._

What if one day they pushed her too far and she gave into temptation?

“Mizuki! Your children need you!” Mom implored. But Mizuki made no move towards them.

Maybe…they’d be better off without her. Better to have no mother at all than one who hated them.

She was no more than dead weight to her family now. Her only other option would be to take the Fire Lord up on his offer…but she couldn’t do that.

It was time to do what she’d been considering for months.

She rose, as if in a dream, and ascended the stairs. Once she reached the living room, she could see the clouds of smoke and dust through the windows, blocking out what little sunlight there was left. It would be so simple…just a walk of a couple of blocks to the Plaza. Those vehicles she heard roaring by were obviously massive; the drivers, be they friendly or foe, probably wouldn’t even feel it when they ran her over. Or perhaps some stray ammunition would take care of her first.

All she had to do was open the door and run. But she hesitated an instant too long; her hand was still turning the doorknob when Mom came chasing after her. 

“ _What are you doing?!_ ” she hissed.

“Killing myself,” Mizuki answered dully.


	8. Azula II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This past Monday (10/12), at exactly 9:02 PM, I finished the rough draft of the final regular chapter. Got me a little teary-eyed... 
> 
> Anyway, I'm posting this early today because I'm so excited about it! FINALLY another Azula chapter, and it's exactly 3000 words long!
> 
> WARNING: Incest.

**PAST**

Flush with the excitement of the rally and freshly scrubbed, Azula was preparing for the audience with Father that she knew was imminent. As usual when she needed to look her absolute best, she had dismissed all of her servants for the night except for Shiza. It felt good to be back in her armor; the red and pink outfit had been both pretty and practical, but simply didn’t offer the same amount of protection. On the outside, she looked every bit the maiden warrior-princess. However, her inner layers were not nearly as modest.

Her senior lady-in-waiting made her patented frown when Azula rejected her usual bindings in favor of Daddy’s favorite pair of lingerie. Azula was fairly certain that Shiza had known about their secret relationship for some time. It would have been hard for her not to, since she was the one getting Azula ready most of the time. However, they appeared to have reached a silent agreement that they would both pretend she didn’t know.

The special pattern of knocks on the door came at the perfect time, just as Shiza was putting the makeup knife away. It was Father who wanted to speak with her first, then.

“Are you…will you be all right?” Shiza asked tentatively while Azula walked towards the door. What an odd question.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she replied. 

The throne room was empty save for herself and the Fire Lord…just as it had been when he’d sent her on this mission over three months ago. Azula stopped a respectful distance away, knelt, and pressed her forehead to the floor. Even when she raised her head, she remained kneeling with her eyes downcast, only daring to look up when she heard him part the flames. 

“At long last, the conqueror of Ba Sing Se makes her appearance,” Father said as greeting.

Azula would have liked to bask in the praise, but knew exactly what she was expected to say. She made a noise of demurral before responding, “I would never have been able to do it if I hadn’t had such a wonderful teacher.”

“Indeed,” Father replied, slowly walking down the steps. His nearness made Azula quake in her boots, and only partly out of fear.

“And your brother slayed the Avatar,” he continued, tugging on his beard. “I was surprised. I didn’t think he had it in him.”

Azula had to think fast. How was she going to make this falsehood believable? She really should’ve thought more about this on the way home…

“I didn’t either,” she began, trying to stall for a few precious seconds so she could conjure up the details. “I was busy fighting the waterbender. But then the Avatar was hovering high up in the air and preoccupied, so Zuko saw his chance and took it. I was amazed that he acted so quickly.” Should she say he used lightning? No, that would be stretching credulity a bit _too_ much. “He hit him with a fire blast straight to the back. It was so precise and powerful that the Avatar never even knew what hit him; impressive even by my standards. And if that didn’t kill the Avatar instantly, the long fall to the ground certainly did.”

There. That seemed to be an acceptable enough fudging of the truth. She didn’t mention that they still hadn’t got official confirmation that the Avatar was actually dead, which was making her a little nervous.

“Wonderful,” Father proclaimed. The story appeared to have passed his muster, and Azula made an internal sigh of relief.

“I take it that you received my dispatches about the intelligence I gathered?” she inquired. Father smirked.

“Yes. They’re planning an invasion during the eclipse. How _precious_.”

Azula permitted herself a little mischievous grin of her own, and said, “I have no doubt that they think they’re the first people to ever attempt such a thing. The Earth King sang like a sparrowkeet about their super-secret plans without me even having to try. I wish you’d been there to see for yourself. You would have loved it.” Those idiots. Capital Island would have had increased security measures that day regardless. 

Father gave a shout of laughter so loud and sudden that even Azula was startled. 

“So do I!” he exclaimed. “But let us discuss that a little later, shall we? There are other matters I would like to attend to first. It has been _far_ too long since I was last able to avail myself of your body.”

Just like that, Father became Daddy, and Azula adapted accordingly. She knew from years of experience how to change her entire demeanor in the blink of an eye. She tugged her hair out of its topknot and let it fall freely down her back, allowing her expression to soften and looking up at Daddy through her eyelashes while biting her lip. 

“I _completely_ agree,” she said, voice changed from formal and measured to almost a purr. This had exactly the effect she wanted on Daddy, who ran over, picked her up, and slung her over his shoulder.

“Ohh,” she whispered into his ear. “ _Unhand_ me, you brute.” But she wanted him as much as he desired her, and they both knew that.

“Do you have any idea how difficult it was for me to find a replacement for you all those months?” Daddy growled as they left the throne room and began what seemed like an unbearably long trip down the secret passageway to his private chambers.

Azula didn’t care to think about who might have been her replacement. Instead, she giggled and said, “I can imagine.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first time hurt a little bit, but she’d expected that after such a long absence, and it was nothing that she couldn’t handle. The second time, Daddy wasn’t in such a big rush, so he could help make it feel good for her, too. After he had been thoroughly satisfied–twice–he was ready to talk strategy again. Azula always felt a little uneasy when he did this, because she wasn’t sure how to categorize it. It was sort of a nebulous area in between Father and Daddy; he expected her to be all business when she didn’t have a stitch of clothing on. 

“The Avatar may be dead, but his friends will be out for revenge,” she told Daddy, putting a few inches of space between them and pulling the sheets up over her chest so she could at least have some coverage. “They should not be taken lightly. The waterbender has improved significantly even in the time I’ve fought against her, and rumor has it that the earthbender has somehow figured out how to bend metal. If that is true, our bunker is no longer impervious.”

Daddy frowned. “That is unfortunate. I presume those two are our biggest threat? We will put the best of the Royal Guard at the main entrance, then, to neutralize them immediately.”

“Actually…no, they’re not,” Azula clarified.

“Then who is?”

Azula felt a smile tugging at her lips as she said, “The nonbender boy, if you can believe that. His name is Sokka. He’s the brains of the group, and apparently the one who, um, figured out how to take down the drill.” _Maybe not the best idea to remind Daddy of that._ She rushed on, “Get into his head, knock him off-balance, and their entire plan will fail.”

“And you think that you know how to do that?” Daddy asked.

Azula’s smile widened. 

“I do,” she said simply.

**PRESENT**

She was prepared for every eventuality.

Well, maybe not _every_ eventuality. She supposed that perhaps the rebels would figure out how to build a replica of her drill. Or…or maybe they’d make a giant walking suit of armor that shot energy beams so powerful that they could annihilate anything in their path.

Actually, that last one was an intriguing idea. She’d have to remember to write that one down later.

But those were exceedingly unlikely scenarios, and she knew it. Without the Earth Kingdom’s funding, there was no way that they would have the resources to make such powerful weapons. She was still prepared for every _plausible_ eventuality.

Azula was quite confident that the Avatar and his friends would be heading this way. War Minister Qin had been instructed to misdirect them, and that was a simple enough task that she thought even he couldn’t mess it up. Everything was ready. She had her Dai Li as backup, perched in the rafters. (She wished she could have had Mai and Ty Lee with her as well, but they were sheltering in their own homes.) Over the past several weeks, Azula had been occupied with perfecting her nonbending fighting and evasion skills. She’d had Ty Lee give her some pointers, and even considered getting her lover to chi-block her to mimic the effects of the eclipse (all her research indicated that they were not pleasant). However, she had ultimately decided against it. That might set an unfortunate precedent, after all.

Speaking of which, she thought that the effects were now kicking in. The books had indicated that no two firebenders appeared to experience exactly the same symptoms or severity. For her, at least, it wasn’t so bad: mostly a sensation of cold and mild nausea. Perhaps her inner fire was so strong that she had some innate resistance…or maybe things were simply muted this far underground.

Then…footsteps and shouting outside. Qin had succeeded in his deception. She adjusted her posture so she looked exactly the right combination of threatening and casual. As the doors were blown open with a gust of wind, she smiled. 

“So, you are alive after all,” she said, just like she had rehearsed in the privacy of her bedroom countless times. “I had a hunch that you survived. But it doesn’t matter. I’ve known about the invasion for months.”

The look of shock on the trio’s faces (the waterbender girl wasn’t with them…too bad) was quite possibly the most gratifying thing that Azula had seen in her entire life. Did they perhaps think of her as some sort of supernatural entity with psychic powers? The somewhat more mundane truth was that they hadn’t been quite as good as hiding as they thought they were, and she had received intelligence from multiple islands about a group matching their descriptions.

“Where is he? Where’s the Fire Lord?” the Avatar demanded. Did he honestly think she was going to just _tell_ him?

“Mm. You mean I’m not good enough for you? You’re hurting my feelings,” she said as she stood up, letting a hint of the voice she used for Daddy seep through. 

“Stop wasting our time and give us the information,” Sokka demanded, gesturing with his sword. He’d caught on quickly, as Azula had expected. “You’re powerless right now, so you’re in no position to refuse.”

_Pfft. Look who’s talking._

The earthbender (her name was…Toph?) added, “And stick to the truth. I’ll be able to tell if you’re lying.”

“Are you sure? I’m a pretty good liar,” Azula answered. Quickly casting around in her head for the most ridiculous statement possible, she said, “I am a four hundred-foot-tall purple platypus bear with pink horns and silver wings.” It took no effort at all. Every successful member of the Fire Nation royal family learned to lie almost as soon as they could speak. When one was in such a high-stakes position, wearing one’s feelings on one’s sleeve could be deadly. Zuzu had learned that the hard way. 

“…Okay, you’re good, I admit it,” Toph said. Azula managed to not so much as even flinch when the earthbender trapped her in a column that went up to her chin. “But you ought to consider telling the truth anyway!”

So far, everything was going exactly according to plan; it was almost too easy. By Azula’s mental count, about two minutes had passed since the start of the eclipse. All she had to do was to continue to occupy them for six more. Azula and the Dai Li had agreed that the latter would make their presence in the room known as soon as Toph tried earthbending for the first time. Right on cue, the column binding Azula crumbled into nothing. Her trio of adversaries looked flabbergasted again. Azula could almost hear them thinking, “Wait…she can earthbend?!”

“When I left Ba Sing Se, I brought home some souvenirs…Dai Li agents!” she explained.

The fight that followed was more an amusement than anything else. At last, Azula got to show off the results of her extensive practice. No matter what obstacle they might throw at her, she could leap, jump, or flip through it. It was rather like what she’d always imagined that airbending would feel like; sometimes, she looked at Ty Lee’s gray eyes and wondered.

Sokka was finally the one to realize how much time had passed, again as she thought he might. He told the other two to stop attacking.

“She’s just playing with us. She’s not even trying to win this fight!” he said, a note of panic creeping into his voice.

(If he thought Azula hadn’t noticed how his eyes had raked over her body as she flew past him, he was deluding himself.)

“Not true! I’m giving it my all,” Azula informed him. Technically, this wasn’t even a lie, since she didn’t specify what “it” was. They bickered with her a while longer, accusing _her_ of wasting their time when they were doing a perfectly good job at it themselves. Then Sokka got them back to their senses again, and the three of them turned and started walking away.

“It’s a trap. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Azula said. There were only a couple of minutes left in the eclipse now, and she doubted that they’d reach Father in time even if they did know the way. And if they blundered their way into one of the rooms surrounding his…it would not be pleasant for them. (Except for Shiza’s room. She’d probably just start crying.)

“Ignore!” Sokka urged them as they continued walking.

It was time. She’d been looking forward to this moment for the whole fight.

“So, Sokka’s your name, right?” she began. “My favorite prisoner used to mention you _all_ the time.”

He halted, turned his head back to look at her. She had him right where she wanted him.

Azula continued, “She was convinced you were going to come _rescue_ her. Of course, you never came, and she gave up on you!” As his face crumpled, she felt a surge of triumph and…something else?

He ran at her. Had she thought that her trick with the dagger was going to work? Not really. Things would be more convenient for her that way, of course, but it would have put this part of her plan to a disappointingly premature end. In any case, Toph disarmed her and threw her against the rough stone wall hard enough that Azula was certain it would leave a nasty bruise. Since both of her Dai Li were out of commission from the fighting, she had no defense this time as the earthbender cuffed her hands to the wall with rock. Or at least, that was what she wanted them to think.

“ **WHERE. IS. SUKI?!** ” Sokka snarled into her face as he loomed over her. Oh, did he think that Azula had mutilated his little girlfriend? She was happy for him to continue thinking that. Father would have used torture, yes, but Azula didn’t see the point of resorting to it when there were other, more subtle ways of getting what she wanted.

She continued to smile down at him, saying nothing, and couldn’t help but notice that his Fire Nation topknot suited him well; made him look older. So did that primitive…thing that passed for a military uniform among the Water Tribe barbarians. That darker shade of blue was definitely his color. Not that she cared. 

“Where’s Suki?” Sokka repeated, interrupting her musings. “Answer me!” The Avatar tried to get him to back off, but he would have none of that. “Where are you keeping her?!”

Azula simply smiled even more. She gazed at the sweat beading on his forehead, at his jaw muscles clenching. Making him angry was so…so…wait. Was her body _responding_ to him? Indeed it was. Half-baked fantasies began racing through her mind. He was standing so close to her…all it would take would be a slight forward thrust of her hips to determine whether he was similarly afflicted. Or was he too preoccupied with his precious Suki? Well, if she managed to take Sokka prisoner, maybe she could…

 _No_. She sternly forbade herself from moving any part of her body or thinking any more of those absurd thoughts. Daddy would never allow that. And even if he did, it was a stupid idea. She reminded herself that Daddy had had her against walls, many times. Any reaction she had was obviously due to memories of that, and had nothing to do with the boy currently glaring at her. Thankfully, before her hormones could come up with any further less-than-brilliant schemes, Azula was bailed out by the sound of a large explosion coming from the general direction of Father’s room. She could feel her own power resurging as well. 

“Oh! Sounds like the firebending’s back on!” she said in fake-surprise. She had herself freed within a few seconds, and generously informed her opponents of her father’s location.

Azula felt elated as she ran out of the room. Her plan had been a complete success. Father would be so happy when he heard, and being with him would banish any lingering images of Water Tribe boys once and for all. Nevertheless, as much as she wanted to see him right away, she first had to hurry onto an airship to make sure the Avatar and his friends got out and stayed out.

…Right after she found a bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last line about the bathroom was originally meant to be a callback to Azula I, where she noted that there were no bathrooms in the bunker, but pretty much right after I wrote it, I realized it could have another meaning given the context. Sorry, people, but I think Azula was in too much of a hurry to take care of _that_. LOL


	9. Mizuki III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it...Act III! It's the ninth inning, the last minute of regulation, the final 24 Pokemon in the Pokerap, etc, etc. Things are gonna get pretty crazy from here on out. 
> 
> WARNING: Brief mention of abortion.

**PAST**

She lost everything she’d worked so hard for. Her school expelled her for “immoral behavior”. All her friends turned against her. She was completely trapped. The only thing going for her was that she had her family’s support. Dad came rushing home after being granted a few days of official leave. Decades in the Navy had hardened him, so he wasn’t exactly the nurturing type. But he tried his best.

“Mizuki, I need you to tell me the name of the sick fuck who did this to you,” he said the night he arrived. “Tomorrow, I will go to the palace and challenge him to an Agni Kai.”

They had omitted that particular detail for Dad’s own safety. He had always been a man of his word, and one who was growing increasingly discontent with the way the military had been run these past five years. If Dad learned that the Fire Lord was the one responsible, Mizuki had no doubt that he would indeed challenge him to an Agni Kai. She also knew that this would immediately result in Dad’s death.

“I don’t know what his name is,” Mizuki mumbled. She had her back turned to him; couldn’t even look him in the eye because she was afraid that the look of concern on his face would cause her to spill the truth before she could stop herself.

Dad seemed like he didn’t quite believe her, but there was nothing he could do about it. There was nothing any of them could do about it.

In the Fire Nation, abortion was only legal under extreme circumstances, which Mizuki didn’t meet. Her options were either to risk her life in some dirty back-alley establishment, or to carry to term. By her third trimester, she was beginning to wish she’d chosen the back alley. She’d gotten really big really fast, particularly for a first pregnancy. When Mom took her to the doctor for this, he’d prodded her belly with his stethoscope until he announced that he could hear two distinct fetal heartbeats.

It wasn’t a total surprise; twins ran on Mom’s side of the family. Her maternal grandmother had had a twin, albeit one who died as an infant, and Mizuki’s aunt had had two sets of them. But that didn’t stop Mizuki from flame-punching a hole in her bedroom wall when they got home. Mom had to come running in to remind her that firebending could potentially be bad for the babies. _Everything was about the babies_. Every time she developed a new stretch mark, or had trouble getting her shoes onto her swollen feet, or started crying over nothing, she felt that much more resentful. Was it too much to ask that her body could be _hers_ again?!

She scarcely left home, because when she did, she felt as if everyone was watching her every move.

 _Look at her_ , she imagined them thinking. _Look at that slut. Just couldn’t keep her legs shut, huh?_

Even after all this, the spirits still weren’t done with making Mizuki’s life miserable. She’d gone into labor at 35 weeks, and Mom had had to rush her to the hospital. After several hours of agony with little progress, the doctor had broken her water to try to speed things up. But instead of looking like water, it came out with a greenish color and a thick consistency. All of the medical staff in the room fell eerily silent as the doctor pushed his stethoscope into her abdomen with so much force as to cause pain. He did this over and over again, the frown on his face seeming to grow bigger with each passing second. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. She and Mom had tried to ask what was going on, only to be sharply rebuked for talking. Then suddenly, the doctor was shouting out that they needed to operate now, and the room burst into organized chaos. The next thing Mizuki knew, she was being wheeled at top speed to the operating room while people talked above her in tense voices, continuing to ignore her panicked questions. Mom hadn’t been allowed to go with her. 

Stunned, Mizuki lay on the table as the doctors prepared for the procedure and scrubbed her belly with disinfectant. Then, barely fifteen minutes after since she’d been wheeled out of her room, someone was holding a mask over her face and telling her to breathe in.

When she started to come back to consciousness, she opened her eyes just wide enough to see that she was back in a hospital bed.

“…Mom?” she ventured.

She felt her hand being squeezed. “I’m here, honey.” _For once._

“Babies? Are they alive?”

“Yes. The doctors got them out just in time, and are working on them.”

Mizuki nodded. She was still very sleepy…surely it would be all right if she dozed off for a little while…?

It ended up taking several hours before she was able to wake up enough to hear the full story. Apparently, that green stuff had been the result of her babies getting so stressed out that they shit themselves. Then the doctor had had difficulty finding either heartbeat, so they’d had to deliver the babies as quickly as possible. This had necessitated a vertical incision, which Mizuki refused to look at when they changed her bandages. She was drugged-up enough that it wasn’t causing her that much pain, but she dreaded what might happen when the doctors started tapering the meds.

The twins were now doing reasonably well, given the circumstances. They’d need to stay in incubators for a while, but they were breathing on their own. The firstborn was a girl, weighing four pounds and twelve ounces. Her brother, born three minutes after her, was five pounds even. They were both small even considering their gestational age and the fact that they were twins; the doctor had said with a hint of judgment in his voice that this was likely because Mizuki was so young.

Once Mizuki was completely alert, they wheeled her down to the intensive care unit to see her children and hold them briefly. Well...they were certainly babies. They weren’t quite developed enough to breastfeed, so a nurse showed her how to express her milk and feed it to them with a dropper. All Mizuki could think about during this entire process was how much she wanted to go back to sleep.

The next morning, Mizuki was almost done with choking down her breakfast when she heard a commotion in the hallway.

“What’s going on?” she asked Mom.

“I don’t know, but I’ll find out,” Mom replied. She went out of the room, and Mizuki heard her speaking with someone outside. When Mom returned, her face was pale and her mouth set grimly. 

“The Fire Lord’s here. He’s visiting the babies right now,” she said. “You told me he didn’t know!”

“That’s what I thought!” Mizuki protested; she felt like she was about to vomit all that awful hospital food back up. “I don’t know how…”

But she did.

 _Ayosa._ Mizuki thought back to how concerned she’d been over the durian incident. She’d known what had really been going on, and had reported it to the Fire Lord. And…and…she’d also known when Mizuki was having her period, which meant…

The Fire Lord had been intending for her to get pregnant the whole time. And she hadn’t just been paranoid; people were watching her. But instead of judging her, they had been spying on her.

How long? How far back had this plan gone? Had he only thought of it after her knife demonstration? Or did it go back even farther? She’d been so proud of winning that internship, but what if it had all been rigged? Had everything she thought she’d ever accomplished just been a _lie_?

She was still reeling when the Fire Lord clomped into her room in those heavy boots of his, pushing a concerned nurse aside with one hand. 

“I hadn’t been planning to visit in-person,” he said to her in lieu of any sort of greeting. “If your child proved to be a promising firebender, I would have arranged for it to live in the palace dormitory, but would not have publicly acknowledged it until and if that happened. But no woman has ever given me twins before. I was intrigued, and had to see them for myself. From the moment I saw you, I knew that you could give me strong children, and you have exceeded even my expectations. Even born as early as they were, they have the spark. Their names will be Akane and Akemi.”

Yeah, two child soldiers for the price of one. No wonder he was “intrigued.” And he wasn’t even going to let her name her own kids. Had he named Beehive Lady’s and Sad Lady’s children, too? Did he do that with all of them, or just the special ones?

Mizuki said nothing, only looking blankly at him. After all the heartache he’d put her through, she was completely _done_ with him for all eternity. Unfortunately, the Fire Lord was not done with _her_.

He continued, “I have heard that your father has had a distinguished career in the Navy. I could promote him to Captain or even higher, and give him an assignment closer to home. All that you would have to do…would be to move into the palace permanently.”

Again, the important part wasn’t what he’d said…but what he hadn’t said. If Mizuki refused to comply with his request, he could just as easily arrange for someone to kill Dad and make it look like an accident. Even the commoners had heard the rumors that the Fire Lord had done this sort of thing before…

At her silence, the Fire Lord said, “Of course, I would not expect you to make a decision right now. You need some time to heal. But do think about it.”

He was gone as abruptly as he had arrived. Mom got up from where she’d been bowing this whole time, and her eyes were big; even she could detect the implications. Mizuki had no mental energy left to do anything except bang her head against the metal bedframe, over and over again, as she let out a low keening of grief and frustration.

**PRESENT**

Mom blinked. “Don’t be ridiculous. You have children to care for.”

“It’ll be better for them this way,” Mizuki muttered, while still keeping her back turned to Mom.

“You’re still _breastfeeding_.”

“Baby formula exists. They won’t starve.”

Right then, the sounds of battle faded, and the dust began to clear.

“Now look. You made me miss my chance,” Mizuki protested.

Mom tugged on her arm. “That’s enough of that. Now come back down to the basement. It’s not fair for Daichi to have to take care of the babies all by himself.”

Mizuki whirled around to face her sorry excuse for a mother. Even with the sun covered, tiny wisps of smoke were arising from her balled-up fists. Years of suppressed resentment came flooding to the surface all at once. 

“That’s all I am to you, isn’t it?!” she shouted, words spilling out with her barely even having to think of them. “For my whole fucking life, I have done everything in my power to make sure that you and Daichi would be taken care of if Dad got injured or killed. I got into Ilah for you. I won that internship for you. I LET THE FUCKING FIRE LORD HAVE HIS FUCKING WAY WITH ME FOR YOU. Now I have two babies, and their sole purpose in life appears to be to make me as miserable as possible. And…and I have this awful lumpy scar and I can’t even hold my pee in anymore half the time! Did you ever stop and _think_ about any of that?! No, all you ever think is ‘Woe is me, my husband is away, I’ll just stay in bed the entire day.’ But when I do that, I’m a bad person?! I guess…I guess you don’t even care about me anymore, now that I’m just a _nuisance._ ”

There was much, much more she wanted to say, but she could hold off the angry tears no longer. She collapsed in a heap on the floor. She, who never cried, was a sobbing mess. 

“Mizuki…” her mother tried. Mizuki ignored her.

Footsteps came up the stairs. Daichi.

“I can take care of the babies for a while if you want,” he said. “I know how to change their diapers and give bottles and all that. Maybe I can even fit their crib into my room if I give away some of my stuff.”

This only made Mizuki cry harder. Great, now she’d made her sweet younger brother feel guilty. He’d never been the problem, and had had to take on a lot of responsibility in his own right; she needed to remember that.

“…That won’t be necessary, Daichi.” That was Mom, with an unusually steady voice. “Let’s just go back down to the basement and get this all sorted out.”

Mizuki had no choice but to allow them to lead her back down the stairs. She continued crying while her mom and brother sat across the room with the babies to give her space. The eclipse finally ended, which made her feel at least physically a little better. Finally, as her sobs died down to the occasional tear, Mom walked back over and offered a cloth, which Mizuki used to wipe her face and blow her nose.

“Are you ready to talk about this now?” Mom asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Well, honey...”–Mom took a breath–“I…well, of course, it’s not at all true that I don’t care about you. But, after I thought about it, I realized you were right about something else.”

Mizuki looked up in surprise. “I was?”

“You were. I should have been paying closer attention, and not so wrapped up in my own problems. We…well, I’m sure you would agree that we’ve never been able to communicate very effectively. I thought that you were pursuing a career in cooking because it was what made you happiest, and I wanted to give you some freedom to achieve your dreams. I had no idea that you’d shouldered yourself with such a burden, because you never indicated anything like that. I messed up, and for that I am deeply sorry.”

“I thought I could handle everything. I thought I was strong,” Mizuki mumbled. “Turns out it was all a lie.”

“You _are_ strong,” Mom insisted. “But even strong people need help every now and then. And I realize now that you probably need more than your brother and I can give you. I’ll have you sleep in my room tonight, and I’ll take you to the hospital first thing in the morning.”

“And tomorrow I’m going to go to the palace and kill the Fire Lord for you!” Daichi exclaimed while flexing his biceps.

“ _No_ ,” Mizuki and Mom told him simultaneously. Mizuki laughed a little in spite of herself.

“I think Akemi wants you to hold him,” Mom said. “See how he’s reaching his arms out? He loves you and needs you. So does Akane. Neither of them are intentionally trying to complicate things for you.”

Indeed, he was extending his arms in her direction, and once he got situated in her arms, he actually smiled at her. He always had been the slightly less irritating of the two. For the first time, Mizuki didn’t see just _his_ baby, but her baby as well. She wasn’t going to be able to fully bond with her kids today, and probably not tomorrow, either. But maybe someday in the indefinite future, she would manage it. 

A couple of hours later, the all-clear signal sounded. The five of them went outside to bask in the sunlight, which now didn’t have so much as a cloud covering it. 

Mizuki still felt like utter shit, but the urge to kill herself right this instant was ebbing a bit. Yes, it would be rough getting back on track, but maybe she should just swallow her pride and start over from the beginning. Now that she could think more clearly, she remembered that Ilah was not the only culinary institution on Capital Island. There were other schools she could apply to that could serve as a stepping stone; less renowned ones with less stringent morality clauses. She still wanted to be a chef, and resolved that she _would_ be one, no matter what. And she’d keep putting off the Fire Lord until…until what? She wasn’t sure, but she’d find a way. Somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBH, this is probably the chapter that I was least satisfied with in the whole fic. But I tried. (I did base it somewhat off personal experience of those thoughts being kind of fleeting.)
> 
> Also...where did my commenters go last chapter? I miss you! LOL If I don't reply to anyone's comment, it's not because I didn't like it; I just have this anxiety about replies from the author being counted as comments too.


	10. Naoko III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...it's Friday again. I was trying to think of something funny to say, but couldn't come up with anything. I'm just a little bummed out that this story is gonna end soon! (And also worried about current events, which TBH is one of the reasons I decided to write this story in the first place.)
> 
> WARNING: Multiple miscarriages, including a brief description of a deformed stillborn fetus. (The latter was actually originally more graphic, but I made myself tone it down a bit.) Also a more detailed recounting of the events previously witnessed by Mizuki at Azula's betrothal banquet.

**PAST**

Naoko couldn’t stifle her cry of surprise as she hit the floor butt-first. Color flooded her face as she picked herself back up. What had happened? Things had been going so well! After the court had endured a particularly annoying Talent Night, Ozai had chosen her to sit on his lap. Every single time he’d done this before, it had led to him taking her to his bed. And then he’d asked about Eri, and it just so happened that Naoko had a cute story ready about their daughter’s antics during her first birthday party. That had reminded Ozai that Eri’s birthday had also been the day that Prince Zuko was banished, which in turn had put him in an exceedingly good mood. Everything had been proceeding exactly as Naoko wanted it…and then Ozai had abruptly dumped her off his lap and walked out of the banquet hall. After a few minutes, Azula gave her a withering glare and left as well.

What had she done wrong? Father had told her that now was the time to start ramping up her efforts to give the Fire Nation a real Fire Lady, and she’d been hoping that tonight she’d conceive her second child. Oh well. A member of the Keohso clan didn’t give up that easily. She continued to be the only one with the breeding and competence to rule at his side. What other choice did the Fire Lord have? Marrying _Azula?_ Yeah right.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ultimately, she did manage to get pregnant later that spring. Everything seemed to be going smoothly; Naoko had barely any morning sickness at all. Then, eight weeks in, she was eating breakfast in the nursery with Eri when she felt awful cramping. Shortly after she returned to her own room, the bleeding started. The whole process was over by lunchtime. Well, that was disappointing, but there was nothing for it but to try again. And she would have plenty of opportunities for that; that whole business with the thirteen-year-old ( _so naughty_ of Ozai), and the resulting mass departure of noble-born girls from court, had eliminated a good chunk of potential competition.

She conceived for the third time in late winter of the next year, and it had seemed like she was past the danger zone. She had reached the sixteen-week mark without problems, and her baby bump had recently made its debut. She felt elated during that week’s Talent Night, basking in all the attention. But just a few hours later, the pain started as she was getting ready for bed. This time, it was full-on labor, and the doctor was summoned. Naoko tried with all her might to keep her womb from expelling its contents, despite both Mother and Dr. Huang repeatedly warning against this. Her whole body shook from the effort, but she lost the battle shortly before dawn.

Dr. Huang said that the fetus would have been another girl. He had immediately flung a towel over the body, but Naoko begged and begged to see it. The doctor was reluctant at first, but finally acquiesced, warning her that she wasn’t going to like what she saw.

She was determined to stay calm and prove the doctor wrong, but then he pulled back a fold of the towel and she screamed when she saw what was inside. Unlike her first miscarriage, where everything just looked like clots, this fetus was large enough to be recognizable as humanoid: about the size of an avocado pear. And it was clear to anyone who looked that there had been something terribly wrong with it; the body was grotesquely swollen. Dr. Huang estimated that it had been dead for two to three days before the contractions had begun. Yesterday, everyone had been admiring her bump…and this had been what was inside it. Wasting all her energy to fight the miscarriage had been pointless after all. 

Dr. Huang quickly took the bundle away from her, and walked out of the room, presumably to cremate the remains. Her mother swore all the servants who had witnessed this to secrecy about what they’d seen on pain of death. Naturally, this meant that the whole court knew about it the next day. All Naoko wanted to do was go to sleep for an indefinite length of time and forget that this had happened. Of course, it wasn’t that simple; the Fire Lord’s children were a matter of state. There was no room for extended personal grieving. 

Two days later, she forced herself to get out of bed and made an appointment to see Dr. Huang.

“I don’t understand,” she told him as she sat in his office, a large room filled with shelves of scrolls and potions. “Why does this keep happening to me? I’ve already had one healthy baby; why can’t I have another? And I wasn’t drinking, I swear!”

The look on Dr. Huang’s face told her that he wasn’t about to give her good news.

“I’ve read about cases like this in the medical literature before,” he said, resting his folded hands on top of his desk. “The exact cause is unknown, but it appears that you may be missing a certain something in your blood that most other people have. That substance is present in the Fire Lord’s blood, as it is in your daughter’s. At some point during pregnancy or delivery, your daughter’s blood mixed with yours, causing your body to build resistance to the substance. Unfortunately, during any subsequent pregnancies, your body will treat the fetus as a foreign invader and attack its blood cells. That is what causes the swelling.”

Naoko felt lightheaded, and had to grasp the arms of her chair to maintain her perfect posture. She asked, “I…Is there anything that can be done to fix it?” 

Dr. Huang replied, “No. It is unlikely that you will ever give birth to a live baby again. I’m sorry.”

She had to bid the doctor a hasty farewell and run out of the room so that he wouldn’t see the tears pricking at her eyes, although she did not permit herself to shed them. That night, she made her reappearance at dinner, and tried to act as if nothing had happened. Nevertheless, Ozai refused to so much as look at her. Naoko drank and drank until she forgot that her heart was breaking.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

She attempted to convince herself that maybe it was for the better. After all, she already had one perfect child, and she didn’t want to risk producing a dud like Shiza had. (And maybe even worse than a dud if the rumors were to be believed; true or not, Naoko had certainly done her part to spread them.) Eri was now two, and captured the hearts of everyone who met her. She had flawless doll-like features, and her baby hair had long since fallen out, to be replaced with a head full of glossy dark ringlets. However, looks could be deceiving. Despite her dainty appearance, Naoko’s daughter wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, often being rough with playmates and giving it her all in her first practice sessions. Recently, Eri had even produced her first little flickers of flame, much to Naoko’s delight…and relief. Even the Princess Azula herself had only been a couple of months younger upon reaching this milestone.

It was thus that Naoko decided to have her daughter make an early debut at court. And what better occasion to do that than the betrothal feast for Azula, when everyone would be there? What better way to rub it in the princess’s face that she wasn’t the only of Ozai’s daughters to be a prodigy?

Naoko was full of excitement (as well as already slightly tipsy) when she headed to the nursery the night of the event.

“I’m here to pick up my daughter!” she announced to the maidservant that opened the door.

“Yes, my lady,” the servant responded. “Um…let me get Huifen.”

Naoko heard this servant have a murmured conversation with the head nurse, who went over to the door and bowed with an apologetic look on her face.

“I beg your pardon, my lady. If I may be blunt…I’m not certain that it would be the best idea to take Eri to dinner with you tonight. She has been feeling under the weather today.”

“Nonsense!” Naoko exclaimed, elbowing past Huifen to get in the room. “Eri is a strong child. I’m sure she’ll do just fine.”

“But my lady, she…”

“I don’t want to hear any more about it!” Naoko snapped. She strode into the bedroom, where Eri was lying in bed, wearing a nightrobe. 

“Well?” Naoko demanded of the girl’s attendant. “Don’t just stand there gawking at me. Get her dressed for dinner!”

After Eri had been prepared, and as Naoko was leading her out of the room by the hand, she did notice that her daughter was indeed rather pale and quiet. But she didn’t think this would be a problem; children got sick all the time. All Eri had to do for the whole dinner was sit in her lap and look cute. 

For most of the meal, things went great. Naoko got many compliments on her beautiful child, and seeing Azula miserable was gratifying. The sake and sorghum liquor she consumed only compounded her happiness. The only thing she didn’t like was that new serving girl. Drunk as she was, Naoko was fully aware of how Ozai’s gaze followed that bitch, completely ignoring Naoko and Eri. Normally, Naoko didn’t see her kind as a serious threat, but there was a cunning and intelligence in this one’s eyes that bothered her. 

Naoko was in the middle of an animated conversation with the new wife of the Interior Minister, who was seated next to her, when Eri tugged on her sleeve.

“Mama?” she asked in a pathetic little voice; so unlike how she usually acted.

Naoko rolled her eyes. “Excuse me. Yes, Eri, what is it? It’s bad manners to interrupt Mama while she’s talking, you know.”

“My tummy hurts,” Eri complained.

“Well, we can leave soon. See? They’re bringing the desserts out now,” Naoko replied. Then, to her talking companion, “Sorry. Where were we again?”

Whoever was in charge of the seating arrangements for this banquet had done a good job. The Interior Minister’s wife was fresh at court after the traditional Ember Island honeymoon, so Naoko had never spoken to her before. But the woman, whose name was Yumi, was only a year or so older than her and had a wicked sense of humor. Naoko laughed until she was out of breath at Yumi’s superb mimicry of an exceptionally obtuse waiter she’d encountered on Ember Island. She no longer cared that Ozai had summoned that serving wench to the high table and was ogling her, and Eri’s second cry of “ _Mama!_ ” barely registered. Thus, she’d had no real warning when her daughter suddenly gave a wet belch and ejected the contents of her stomach all across the tabletop. Naoko yelped, and the people sitting nearby them all leapt out of their seats in disgust.

“EW! What’s your _problem_ , bringing a sick kid to dinner?!” Yumi demanded. Everywhere, people were looking at her with glares of censure. It occurred to Naoko that she had to get out of here before…

“HOW _DARE_ SHE EMBARRASS ME LIKE THAT?”

Oh no. She was in for it now. She shoved Eri into the arms of the first person she saw with a serving uniform on, and ran for it. Ozai was chasing her; she had to get away! However, her legs refused to do what she wanted them to do, and she’d scarcely gotten into the hallway when she tripped over the carpet and fell, sprawling out full-length on the floor. Within seconds, Ozai had overtaken her. He lifted her up by the back of her hanfu, causing the fabric to tear, and backhanded her so hard that her ears rang.

When he released his hold on her clothing, Naoko staggered backward, finally managing to sink to her knees. She gaped up at his enraged face, too stunned to cry. He had never struck her before. 

“Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he demanded, voice still raised. “You usually _never shut up_ ; why are you so quiet now?!”

Naoko tried, but the words froze in her throat before she could even form them.

This only served to anger Ozai more. “ANSWER ME, YOU CUNT!” 

“I’m sorry,” Naoko whispered, hand cradling the rapidly swelling bruise on her face. “The nurse warned me she wasn’t feeling well. I should have paid more attention.” She had to call upon all of her training at the Royal Fire Academy to remain calm.

In response, Ozai grabbed hold of her hair and ripped it out of its arrangement, sending diamond-tipped pins and extensions flying everywhere. Then he grasped her now mostly loose tresses in his hand, cruelly twisting until Naoko’s eyes watered. But she didn’t make a sound.

“I could burn all your pretty hair off right now,” he told her, voice abruptly changing from bellow to menacing near-whisper. “Would you like that? Or perhaps I should simply pull it out by the roots. Burnt hair does stink, after all, even worse than burning skin; _I should know_.”

“Whichever punishment you deem fit,” Naoko murmured. For some reason, Ozai didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. After a few more twists, he let go of her hair and allowed her to get to her feet.

“You will leave court as soon as possible and complete your recovery at your family’s estate in Shuhon,” he ultimately said. “Your daughter will stay here.”

“Yes, Fire Lord. Thank you, Fire Lord,” she said, continuing to do her best to maintain her dignity despite the situation.

As Ozai finally gave Naoko permission to leave, her primary concern was booking an emergency appointment at the spa for first thing tomorrow to trim off the damaged ends of her hair. It was only after this had been achieved that she remembered to check if Eri had made it back to the nursery. (She had.)

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Naoko ran into that serving girl again the day before she left, but later couldn’t recall what she had said to her. Neither did she remember much about her exile. Her parents were furious at her, of course, but they usually stayed at the palace, so Naoko had the entire house to herself. She could drink the days away if she wanted, which she often did, because now there was no reason not to. Plus, whenever she was sober, she started thinking, which was never a good thing.

_Look at you. You had so much potential. Almost every unmarried nobleman wanted your hand in marriage, and any of them would have been delighted to have you rule over them. But now you’re nothing more than a bedwarmer of a man who doesn’t want you and a broodmare who is no longer useful. You no longer have any identity of your own. What a waste._

She rarely thought of Eri, if at all.

Six months later, Ozai finally called her back to the palace. This time, she really, _really_ tried to get her alcohol consumption under control. Sometimes she had a pretty good handle on it for weeks at a time, but then there’d be another banquet, and the temptation of everyone around her drinking would be too much for her to overcome. As usual, she was diligent about keeping up appearances even on bad days. A little extra face powder, having a constant supply of fresh mint available to chew, getting her robes taken in at the waist and padded in the chest to disguise the fact that she’d lost a large amount of weight in Shuhon…and no one would be the wiser. That was the hope, at least.

But things had changed. Despite her efforts, it was clear that the Fire Lord had no intention of restoring her to her place in his bed. Although people continued to be courteous to her, she could tell that it was more out of pity than out of deference. Father had more or less given up on her. Her relationship with her daughter was equally fraught; the girl appeared to see her as little more than a stranger. Not that Naoko could blame her, when she herself found it difficult to look her daughter in the eye after The Incident.

Eri did not have such problems in her interactions with her father. In fact, to Naoko’s surprise, she was in even higher favor with the Fire Lord than she had been before. Ozai even occasionally showed up in the nursery to observe Eri’s play. One time, Naoko happened to see this on one of her own rare visits. The image of the leader of the civilized world sitting on the floor amongst the child-sized furniture as Eri showed him her newest toys was not one that was easily forgotten. He had definitely never taken the time to visit _Shiza’s_ children like that. Most of the Fire Lord’s illegitimate children were sent to the dormitory full-time after they turned three, but Eri had been granted special permission to continue to sleep in the palace. Only a select few of his children got to do that. And as far as Naoko knew, Eri was _the_ only one of his illegitimate children who was allowed to address him as “Daddy” or “Father” instead of “Fire Lord.” 

On the morning of Eri’s third birthday, Naoko went to the nursery, determined to be a proper mother at least for this special day. However, she was informed that the Fire Lord had already picked their daughter up and taken her with him to his office. Naoko forced a twinge of jealousy into the back of her head, and decided to head down to check on things.

On the way down, she encountered someone unexpected: Shiza. The woman looked like she’d just seen a particularly horrifying dark spirit.

“Naoko, you have to get your daughter out of here as quickly as possible,” she said in urgent tones. All Naoko did was laugh. 

“Nice try. But you can’t fool me that easily,” she said. As much of a dolt as Shiza may be, her older son Zoren was known to be smart and charismatic. He’d likely be able to worm his way into Ozai’s affections if Eri were to suddenly leave.

Shiza scowled and stomped her tiny foot. 

“Will you please listen just this once?!” she asked. “This is not about ranking, or influence, or favor, or anything like that. This is about your daughter’s well-being, and maybe even her _life_.”

She actually sounded partway intimidating. It was almost enough for Naoko to wonder if she truly was concerned for Eri.

Almost, but not quite.

“Do be a dear and get out of my way,” she said, and then shoved on past her anyway.

She didn’t want to admit it, but Shiza’s words had planted a seed of doubt in her head. Ozai punished those who showed disrespect to him, as was his right. She knew Eri would never do that intentionally…but she was young. What if she had said something that could be misconstrued as insulting?

Her pace quickened as she approached the doors of the Fire Lord’s office, only for them to swing open just as she got there. Ozai was holding Eri in his arms, and their daughter was relaxed and smiling as she babbled about whichever topics were running through her head at the moment. Shiza, as usual, had had no idea what she was talking about, and Naoko felt annoyed at herself for giving her words even the slightest heed.

“It looks like you two had a good time together!” she said.

“We burned it!” Eri informed her before bursting into giggles. 

Ozai looked down on Eri fondly. He explained, “She did help me dispose of some unwanted correspondence, yes. I thought, since today was her birthday and she’s becoming such a big girl, that she might want a glimpse of her Fire Lord at work.”

He was actually looking at Naoko when he said this! It was a big step in the right direction. 

“That was very generous of your father, Eri,” she told the child as Ozai set her back on the ground. “What do we say to people who do nice things for us?” She hoped that Eri’s nurses had already been working with her on this; otherwise she’d just look really stupid.

Luck proved to be on her side. Eri immediately said, “Thank you,” and bowed without being bidden. 

“You are welcome,” Ozai replied. “Now I must go to my war meeting, and perhaps one day I will permit you to attend those as well.”

As Naoko took Eri by the hand and led her away, the child piped up with, “Mama! Mama! I’m gonna be _Fire Lady_!”

Naoko smiled down at her daughter with rekindled affection, and replied, “That’s the spirit.” Obviously, Eri had either misunderstood something Ozai had said or was simply playing pretend. Naoko chose to let her child have her little fantasies for the time being. 

Everything was looking up for them. Eri had accomplished what Naoko admittedly could not. Now all she had to do was be patient, wait for the right opportunity, and then pounce on it with all her might.

**PRESENT**

The instant that she heard the click of the door to her room being unsealed, Naoko slid it open and sprinted directly into Ozai’s room. She froze in place and her heart leapt into her throat as she saw her lord and master crumpled against the back wall of the room, the floor in front of him ablaze. Zuko was nowhere to be found.

 _Was he_ …? No, he was moving and looking up at her now. Naoko quickly put out the fire and ran to him. She knelt before him, taking his face in her hands. He had a worryingly dazed look in his eyes, as if he didn’t quite recognize her.

“My lord. My darling. My _love_ ,” she babbled, “It’s me…Naoko. Are you all right? I heard everything. What did that double-crossing piece of shit _do_ to you?”

Ozai blinked, trying to shake off the mental fog.

“…Redirected my lightning,” he muttered. “He wasn’t supposed to know how to do that. No one is.” 

With much coaxing, she was able to get from him that he hadn’t actually been struck by the lightning. However, the resulting shock wave had thrown him against the wall, injuring his lower back in the process. He was obviously in a great deal of pain. What sort of son would do that to his own father?!

“Where are your guards?” she asked. 

“Chasing Zuko,” Ozai said through gritted teeth. He tried to stand, but his legs gave way. Naoko reached out to break his fall. 

“Dear, please, you’re hurt. Let me help you!” Naoko pleaded. “Everything will be fine. There is no way that that traitor is going to escape with so many people after him. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll get the fate he deserves.” And she would make up for her absence from the Agni Kai by being in the front row at the execution, cheering the loudest of everyone.

Ozai was finally able to get to his feet with Naoko’s assistance. Together, they hobbled up the stairs and into the hallway, where the children were streaming out from their room. Eri was among them, clinging onto the hand of an older half-sister. Her face lit up when she saw her father.

“The Fire Lord is not feeling well,” Naoko told her firmly. “Go on with…”–she paused to remember the girl’s name–“Lanying.”

A harried-looking Anshi blew a short blast on her whistle.

“Great job, everyone!” she said, pasting a smile on her face. 

Ruanyu grumbled, “But we didn’t even get to _do anything_!” 

“Even so,” Anshi insisted. She turned and bowed to Ozai. “Fire Lord, is it all right if I give them the rest of the day off?”

“Yes, go ahead,” he said with a wave of his hand; Naoko thought it likely that he was still in shock and hadn’t entirely comprehended what his eldest daughter had said.

“Did you hear that? No evening drills tonight!” Anshi told them. Some of the younger children cheered, but one glare from Anshi had them kneeling and murmuring their thanks as they ought to. They were just about to go their separate ways when…

“Where are Shiza and her children?” Ozai’s voice had suddenly returned to its full power, without a hint of confusion. Naoko hadn’t even noticed the absence of Lady Squeaky, but a quick headcount revealed that there were only four pairs of children, instead of the expected five.

Anshi quailed. “She…she said that you’d given her permission to have her children with her.”

“And you were stupid enough to _believe_ her? I did no such thing,” Ozai growled. “Her sons were supposed to be with you, and her assigned room was over there.” He pointed down the hallway. Ichiro ran over to open the door; to no one’s surprise, the room proved to be empty. 

“THAT BITCH!” Ozai raged, causing the torches in the corridor to flare up to alarming heights. Even Naoko was surprised at the intensity of his reaction. Then, as he attempted to stand to his full height, he let out a further shout of pain and fell against Naoko’s side, nearly knocking _her_ off-balance in the process. Izumi clapped her hands over her ears and made that awful groaning sound, and Zhilan’s infant son started wailing, but the others knew to keep their mouths shut.

Naoko held him close to prevent any further sudden movements. She saw her long-awaited chance handed to her on a silver platter.

“Forget her and her pathetic children!” she hissed. “Right now, you have me, and I will _never_ leave you. Let’s go back up to the palace and get you some help for your back.”

Ozai sighed, as if he wanted to argue but didn’t have the strength for it. 

“You will be punished later,” he told Anshi. 

“Of course she will,” Naoko agreed. “Everyone who has wronged you today will. But you should have your own injuries tended to before you think about that.”

She helped her Fire Lord limp onward to the elevator, whispering sweet nothings into his ear the entire way.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was by Ozai’s side almost the entire time as he was moved to his room and Dr. Huang assessed him, only stepping away for a few seconds to knock back a much-needed glass of sake. Thankfully, the doctor quickly determined that no permanent damage had been done, and prescribed a couple of days of rest, a support cushion, and a cane for walking. He also offered tincture of opium for the pain, but Ozai declined it. 

Most unfortunately, the guards came back with the news that, although the invaders had been beaten back and many taken prisoner, Zuko had eluded them and Iroh had also escaped. Predictably, Ozai scolded them harshly for their incompetence, expletives flying like fireballs. He also threw some actual fireballs at them. Naoko placed a gentle hand on his chest to stop him from getting out of bed. Typically, she would have loved to watch Ozai tear those buffoons a new one, but today wasn’t exactly a typical day. She had to think quickly to calm him down before he exacerbated his back again. 

“Things will maybe take a bit longer than anticipated, but they _will_ be found,” she assured him. “Even these fools can manage that eventually. You should just focus on getting better so you can give those traitors the punishments they deserve when they’re apprehended.” She withdrew her hand, but not before running a finger down his perfectly toned muscles.

“Very well,” he sighed. “Guards, you may leave. For now, you are only docked two months’ pay each. I may consider reducing that to one month if you ensure that I am not disturbed by anyone tonight.”

“Even the Princess Azula, Fire Lord?” the head guard asked.

“ _Especially_ the Princess Azula,” Ozai answered.

The guards snuck looks at each other. They had not been among those in the bunker, and were obviously wondering what was going on. Nevertheless, fearing greater loss of wages or worse, they kept quiet, bowed, and backed out of the room. The doors were shut, and Naoko heard the guards drawing the bolt and chains. Now, it was just the two of them in the room.

“My poor dear,” she cooed while brushing a few stray hairs out of Ozai’s face. “The weight of the world is on your shoulders, isn’t it?” She smirked as an idea occurred to her, and climbed on the bed, kneeling between his legs. 

“I think I can help you feel better. Would you like that?” Her finger resumed tracing its path, going lower this time. She gave a little experimental squeeze when she reached her destination. Yes, it appeared that he _would_ , in fact, like that.

Ozai snorted. “You truly are the most brazen slut I have ever known.”

Naoko shrugged and said casually, “But I’m _your_ brazen slut. You know that. Now...”–she reached for the fastenings of his trousers while making sure that the support cushion was securely in place–“You don’t have to move a muscle. I’ll take care of everything.”

Her body ached to have him inside her after all those months of celibacy, but she knew that would be too much exertion for the Fire Lord’s current state. Instead, she pleasured him with her hands and mouth. After he was finished, he made a little groan of contentment, and did appear to be in less pain. Shortly thereafter, as so often occurred, he nodded off. Naoko hoped that he would remember this later: how she had been there for him when no one else was. Doubtlessly, the Princess Azula would show up sooner or later to check on her father, and Naoko would be there to tell her what was what. 

She hadn’t lied to her Fire Lord, or attacked him, or fled. She would be loyal, even if she never did end up being Fire Lady. 

Always.

No matter what.

For the rest of her life.


	11. Azula III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing as how I've been glued to the TV for a good chunk of the past 66-ish hours, I thought I'd hurry up and post this when I could. LOL Next chapter is going to be a chunky boi, so while I hope I can get it posted in time, I may need a little extra time to perfect it.

**PAST**

Everything was going Azula’s way. She’d had her big spa trip just yesterday, so her skin was moisturized, her nails perfectly manicured, and her muscles limber from massage. The war meeting today, and her idea, had been a resounding success (although it had been a little awkward going back to talking about the boring old earthbender rebels after all that excitement). Zuzu had been pretty quiet during the meeting, so the spotlight had been on her, exactly as it should be. Now, it was the night before the eclipse, and she and Father were peering down at a scale model of the bunker, going over the plan one more time.

“So I will be in the large central room,” Azula was saying, tapping the corresponding room of the model with a pointer. “And you and your guards will be in this room, way over to the left. Then there’s Naoko to your right; one hopes that she knows there’s no bar in the bunker. Shiza’s across the hall from her, and then my half-siblings will take up most of the back wall. Finally, Zuzu’s room is on the far right.”

She fell silent. That was the only area of uncertainty in Azula’s otherwise perfect life: what exactly her brother was up to. Since they’d gotten back from Ember Island, Zuko had been spending much of his time skulking around the Catacombs, asking Azula weird questions, and passing entire days at Mai’s house. (But _never_ the nights; no, his honor wouldn’t allow him to impugn Mai’s virtue like that, although the usually dour girl was in a good enough mood that Azula thought it likely that they were doing _something_.)

Father was speaking now, though, so Azula turned her attention back on him and away from the fascinating question of whether or not Zuzu had a chronic case of blue balls.

“And you know what you’re going to say?” he asked. Azula nodded.

“Every word,” she assured him. 

“Excellent,” he replied. “You and your brother are both doing very well.” Azula had to force herself not to pout. This was _her_ time; why did he insist on dragging Zuko into it? However, her disappointment was all but forgotten with Father’s next words. 

“Believe it or not, I may remarry soon,” he said as his hand “accidentally” brushed against hers. That was her cue.

“Dare I wonder who the lucky lady might be?” Azula inquired in a sing-song tone. She slowly slid her mantle off her shoulders, letting it land in a pile on the floor. Daddy tsked at her.

“Don’t be greedy, now,” he admonished. “That would ruin the surprise.” Apparently getting impatient with her teasing, he made a fire dagger and slashed through the rest of her outer clothing. That was the third outfit this month which he had destroyed in this manner. Oh well. She could always order more.

“Aww. Not even a tiny hint?” she cajoled. Daddy’s only response was to silently gesture towards the bed, brow creased with the beginnings of annoyance, and Azula knew better than to delay his gratification any further. She freed her feet from the bundle of singed fabric, took off her undergarments and boots, and walked backward until her calves hit the bed. Briefly, she considered showing off her recent practice in acrobatics by doing a handspring onto the mattress, but Daddy pushed her backwards before that plan could come to fruition. Instead of lying on her back as she usually did, she flipped over on her stomach and knelt with her face in the mattress, presenting herself to him.

“You want it from behind tonight, hm?” Daddy asked as he mounted her. Azula gave a murmur of assent.

“I wanted to try something different,” she explained. He seemed to have no problems with that, and Azula hoped that he wouldn’t catch on that the real reason she wanted to do this was so that he couldn’t see that she wasn’t giving him her full attention. As he started to move inside her, Azula made noises where appropriate, but her mind continued to plot and plan.

He had to be considering marrying her. Otherwise, why would he mention it like that? She’d been wondering when he’d get around to it, and was more than ready to be his Fire Lady. That way, there would be no more of this sneaking around, and she could finally bear his children like all his other ladies did. Once she gave him more legitimate heirs, Zhilan and Zoren and Eri and the rest would be superfluous. She smiled into the bedding as she pictured the look of impotent fury that would be on Naoko’s face as she was forced to watch Azula standing with Father in front of the Fire Sage. 

Of course, this meant that she would have to be even more careful not to mess things up tomorrow.

**PRESENT**

She hadn’t messed up. Or at least, she thought she hadn’t. She had very briefly considered chasing the sky bison further, but quickly determined that this would almost certainly be a waste of resources. The bison was more maneuverable than her craft, and also had a tailwind. The important thing was, she’d followed them long enough to see that they were heading due north. Coincidentally, the Boiling Rock lay in that direction, and this was certainly where Father would put any prisoners of war. Azula wasn’t sure whether or not the Avatar and his friends actually knew this, though.

When the airship returned to the launchpad, Azula ran down the boarding ramp and straight to the palanquin that awaited her. A grin of triumph nearly split her face in two as she pondered what accolades may be awaiting her back home. Would Father be waiting outside the main entrance to give her a hero’s welcome? Or would he prefer a reception in the throne room? Surely, there would be a banquet; if not tonight, then within the next few days.

She was sorely disappointed when she saw what was actually waiting for her at the palace: utter chaos. From her palanquin, she had mistaken the shouts coming from the area as ones of celebration. It was only when she disembarked that she saw people running all over the place like panicked komodo chickens. All the excitement within her deflated instantly. She stood in the front hall for several minutes, waiting for someone to notice her, but none of them did. Not even any of the bastards looked at her as they filed in; the younger ones stared blankly into space while the older ones were trying to comfort Anshi. Her oldest half-sibling had collapsed as soon as they got into the front hall, clinging onto a pillar while weeping silently. 

It took so long for anyone to react to Azula’s presence that she started to wonder if she had, in fact, died in the battle against the Avatar’s group and simply hadn’t realized it. But then, finally, War Minister Qin ran up to her. 

“My Princess!” he said, making a kowtow at her feet. “This miserable worm of a servant has failed you. Please accept this servant’s apologies for his utter incompetence. This servant will gratefully accept any punishment.”

He was using the old humble dialect; this had been commonplace during Sozin’s rule, but these days was only utilized in times of utmost catastrophe. Honestly, Azula had little patience for it, because she just wanted people to get to the point. She would give them plenty of time to beg for their lives afterward.

“ _What incompetence?_ ” Azula asked him, making sure that her voice had as deadly an edge as any sword. She felt the need to clarify with, “Aside from your usual?”

War Minister Qin rose up onto his knees.

“P…Prince Zuko turned traitor and escaped,” he all but whispered. “The Fire Lord heroically tried to apprehend him, but was injured in the process.”

A stab of shock ran through Azula’s chest, knocking the wind out of her.

“What sort of injury?” she inquired. If he’d been mortally wounded, or even simply incapacitated for a long time, the burden of ruling would go to her. She felt relieved when Qin hurriedly assured her it was nothing life-threatening, but now she could focus fully on the first part of the sentence. 

She should have known; should have warned Father! She was fully aware of how weird Zuko had been acting, and now he’d gotten away right under their noses. She’d gotten him set up with Mai, _lied_ for him so Father would welcome him home, and this was how he repaid her?! As far as she was concerned, Zuko was no longer her brother.

It took much interrogation, but she ultimately dragged the whole story out of Qin. How for some unfathomable reason, no one had thought to escort Zuko to the bunker, or had taken the time to confirm that he’d made it to his room there. How for the entire time Azula had been holding off the Avatar, Zuko had been in Father’s room insulting him. When it came to exactly what Zuko had said, or the precise mechanism of Father’s injury, there were no satisfactory answers at the moment. 

“Send reinforcements to the prison,” she ordered. “Doubtlessly, he will want to rescue our good-for-nothing uncle.”

“We already have,” Qin confirmed. “Zuko was seen at the prison, but Prince Iroh escaped on his own before he even got there.”

Azula ground her teeth together. “Do you have any leads on where either of them went after that?”

“None, Princess. Except that there is a war balloon missing from our arsenal.” Well, that didn’t narrow it down much. Those war balloons had been designed to be able to travel long distances before needing to be refueled. Those two traitors could be anywhere…and that was assuming they were together. If they weren’t, the logistics of tracking them both down could prove nightmarish.

However, she soon realized it was futile to chase after them today. It would be dark soon, and the guards were exhausted from pursuing the fugitives all afternoon. What was more, it would be prudent to wait until Father had recovered enough for her to consult with him.

Qin was still waiting for her reply, so she said, “Very well. We shall formulate a plan to locate these traitors first thing tomorrow morning. At the moment, however, I must refresh myself and then pay a visit to the Fire Lord. Have you any idea of the whereabouts of my maid Shiza?”

Qin squirmed.

“Um, yes. About that…” he said. 

**WHAT?!**

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later, she sat fuming in her bath, which she’d drawn herself with the tap at the hottest setting and then heated even further, to the point of being borderline intolerable even for a firebender. As she had listened to what the war minister had to say, her rage rose to ever higher levels. Qin had also brought in a gatehouse guard who had had a run-in with Shiza. Hobbling on a bandaged leg, the guard had explained that he’d not had the backup he was supposed to have, and that Shiza had pulled a knife on him out of nowhere. It transpired that the other guard had been ill, but had never bothered to send notification so he could be replaced. Azula had ordered that the sick guard be thrown into prison. The injured guard had gotten off more lightly, only losing his job. 

After that, the trail went cold, since everyone had been preoccupied with their failed attempts at tracking Zuko down. Azula would investigate this tomorrow as well, although she had to admit to herself that a kept woman and her two bastard children were a lower priority than Zuko and Iroh. She had to put treason against the crown over her own personal hurt feelings. However, that didn’t do anything to assuage her renewed anger when she’d reached her bedroom and found that her makeup knife was missing.

So Shiza had not only left her, but had stolen from her as well. Another person had taken her favor and thrown it back in her face. Had that woman even realized that she would have never have risen as far as she did without Azula’s tacit support? The position of favored body servant to a princess was one of great prestige, and one that Azula had deliberately not granted to Naoko. She had made scathing comments about the Keohso bitch to Father as often as she could get away with it, yet almost never made any such remarks about Shiza.

In the end, it had all led to nothing. She wished that Mai and Ty Lee were with her right now, particularly the latter. They would _never_ abandon her. To make sure of that, she would have to tighten her grip on them. She no longer had the luxury of overlooking problematic behavior, no matter how minor. There would be no more favors.

She sulked in the tub until her skin grew wrinkly and she got tired of having to constantly reheat the water. A maid much less skilled than Shiza was there to wrap her in a robe and comb out her hair. While Azula sat at her vanity table, resolutely not wincing as this imbecile attempted to work through the knots, a messenger came to deliver the news she’d been waiting for: Father had woken.

She had the servant redress her (the armor wasn’t fastened quite as snugly as she preferred, but that couldn’t be helped right now), and set off for her father’s rooms. However, an unpleasant surprise awaited her in front of the grand double doors to the antechamber. In addition to the usual guards, an all-too familiar third person was sitting there.

“Princess Azula. Took you long enough,” Naoko said as she staggered to her feet. She did not bow. Her lipstick was smeared, but whether that was due to her wrapping her lips around a bottle or around…something else, Azula couldn’t be certain. 

“Go be drunk somewhere else,” she snapped. “I need to talk with my father.” Naoko let out a shriek of elation that Azula was halfway convinced had ruptured her eardrums. 

“The Fire Lord has no time for lying little girls, honey,” the taller woman replied. 

“Remember your place,” Azula growled. Lying? What could she mean by…

_Zuko had told Father about the Avatar._

It appeared that she was in deep trouble. Naoko smirked as she watched Azula put the pieces together.

“Oh, I remember my place,” she went on, her words so slurred that it was difficult to understand them at times. “My place is by the Fire Lord’s side, since _I_ didn’t lie to him. He specifically ordered the guards not to let you in. You can go ahead and try if you don’t believe me, but I…”–she covered her mouth with her hand as she belched–“…guarantee you it won’t work.”

All right, this was getting ridiculous. Squaring her shoulders and holding her head up high, Azula strode to the doors and briskly rapped on one. 

“Father? It is me,” she announced. “I am here to inquire after your health.”

No answer. Perhaps he had fallen asleep again and couldn’t hear her. 

“Father?” she tried again, knocking as loudly as she could. Still nothing. “Father, allow me to explain!” She tested the doorknob, and found it to be locked. 

Up until now, the guards had kept their silence, probably because they hadn’t wanted to cross her. But finally, one of them spoke. 

“Um, Princess, the Lady Naoko is correct,” one of them said. “The Fire Lord expressly stated that he was not to be disturbed.” He tactfully left off the obvious last two words: _by you_.

Azula was perfectly capable of taking both guards on at once; she was certain of that. And she knew how to pick a lock from her days of sneaking various disgusting creatures into Zuzu’s room when they were children. But this wasn’t poor, hapless Zuko. If she defied Father’s orders, the thought of what he might do to her was not something she wanted to consider. So she silently turned and walked away, Naoko’s triumphant laughter ringing in her ears. 

Despite the uncertainty of what her future might hold, the ghost of a smile crossed Azula’s face. Naoko thought she’d won the struggle for Father’s attention permanently. That bitch had always seen herself as so _clever_ , plotting everything out with her own father, but she lacked one important thing: common sense. As usual, she refused to acknowledge what was right in front of her eyes. Father had not given her the room next to his in the bunker because he loved her; it was simply a matter of insurance. No matter how carefully they planned, they would have no way of knowing the enemy’s exact strategy. Thus, Father had planted decoys at every possible entrance to serve as meat shields if need be. It certainly would have been unfortunate if any of them were to die, particularly the bastards. Father had invested much time and money into their training, so them all perishing would have been a massive waste of resources. But when it came down to their lives versus Father’s, the choice was clear. Anshi was smarter, and she had seen what Naoko could not. She’d known all along that she was potentially leading children to their death.

But _Azula_ was the one who mattered; the one who had been given the active role in thwarting the Avatar. And she knew that Father knew that. His current favoring of Naoko was not meant to be a reward for the older woman, but rather a punishment for Azula. She would be patient, and would wait a week or a month or even a year; however long it took for Father to get tired of Naoko again. Naoko could be pretty and witty and sharp-tongued all she wanted, but _no one_ out-Azula’ed Azula. What was more, Azula was the one who had time on her side. Naoko would be turning twenty-one soon–practically ancient by Father’s standards–and her heavy drinking wasn’t going to help her get any younger. Already, the effects were beginning to take their toll on her skin, no matter how clever she thought she was at hiding it. 

And regardless of whether Daddy had taken her back to bed yet, _Father_ would need her help during Sozin’s Comet. Azula had been the one who came up with the idea and would see to the logistics, after all. He’d return to her eventually, and she’d welcome him with open arms when he did. The whole world was theirs for the taking.


	12. Shiza III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, am I ever nervous about this chapter! As a certain famous TV show on HBO has taught me, epic stories are all for nothing if one can't stick the landing. But I think I can honestly say I tried my very best here. This story has definitely been a journey for me. 
> 
> It's going to be pretty agonizing waiting for kudos/comments, since this chapter is 14k words long and will thus take a while for people to read. LOL
> 
> WARNING: Numerous implied rapes, and a secondhand account of a traumatic childbirth.

**PAST**

When she came to, Shiza found herself in Rin’s arms. It didn’t appear that she’d been unconscious for more than a few seconds, since the crowd was still roaring at top volume.

“He’s dead,” she moaned. “He’sdeadhe’sdeadhe’sdead. And it’s all my fault.” She’d only wanted to befriend the poor boy…and look where it had led. 

“Okay, first of all it’s not your fault; that’s just silly,” Rin replied. “And secondly, he’s not dead. See?”

Indeed, as Shiza was restored to her senses, she saw Zuko’s arm move a little as he was lifted onto a stretcher. Ozai had already vacated the area. 

Rin helped her to her feet, and muttered, “Let’s just get you out of here.” Then, in a louder voice, “Hey, all of you, move it! Let us pass! My sister needs medical help!” The two of them slowly made their way out of the arena. Once they reached the fresher air of the hallway, Shiza was able to walk mostly by herself. 

After they reached Shiza’s rooms, Rin helped her change into a clean nightgown and get into bed, and sent Zoren’s nurse to fetch Dr. Huang. 

“So…do you want to talk about it?” Rin asked as she sat at the bedside, bouncing Zoren on her knee. The baby was still somewhat groggy from being abruptly awoken from his nap.

Shiza grimaced. “No.” She didn’t even want to _think_ about it, was still in the stage where she was in denial that every aspect of her life had been a lie.

Shortly thereafter, Dr. Huang arrived, gave her a cursory examination, and scolded her for overexerting herself. He told Shiza to stay in bed for the rest of today and maybe tomorrow, with which she was all too happy to comply. She even allowed him to dose her with a special sleeping draught, formulated to be safer for her unborn child.

Just before she drifted off, she mumbled, “Rin?”

“What?” her older sister responded. She was handing Zoren back to the nurse and making preparations to leave.

“…Thank you.”

Although Shiza’s eyes were closed, she heard Rin’s sigh. After a few seconds, she responded with a curt, “You’re welcome.” The last thing Shiza was aware of was the door closing.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ozai summoned her the very next night…because of course he did.

“Dr. Huang tells me that you were taken ill at the Agni Kai,” he said from his place at the table. He peered up at Shiza over the rim of his sake cup. 

Shiza was standing before him at attention, like a naughty child who was about to get the scolding of a lifetime. She gulped, and her toes curled in her slippers.

“It was the smell,” she said. “Everything smells so much stronger when I’m pregnant.” At least it wasn’t a total lie. 

Ozai’s eyes turned flinty. All he said was, “I see. You are fully recovered now though, I assume?”

Shiza nodded. When Ozai was finished with his drink, he rose from his cushion and made his way over to stand behind her. His fingers felt like talons as they gripped her arms hard enough to bruise, and his arousal pressed equally insistently against her back. He turned her face towards his and claimed her lips aggressively, forcing his tongue into her mouth. After his hands finally released their hold on her arms, one greedily clutched her breast, while the other rested on the large protrusion in her middle. Shiza submitted to him as always. But she knew that he knew how she truly felt; he had to. Any pretense that this was a romantic relationship was gone forever. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The following night, the Fire Lord left her alone, so Shiza donned a hooded cloak and set off for the infirmary. Today, Rin had shared the good news that Prince Zuko had stabilized. Shiza had even had the kitchens prepare an individual-sized ash banana cake for his breakfast tomorrow in case he felt like eating. 

However, the instant she cracked open the infirmary door, Prince Iroh shot up from his seat beside Zuko’s bed and ran over to her.

“Lady Shiza. You are not supposed to be here,” he said in an urgent whisper. 

“I’m sorry. I know it’s late,” she said while bowing. “I only wanted to stop in for a few seconds to see how he was doing…”

Prince Iroh cut her off with a brusque, “You do not understand. Prince Zuko has been exiled from the Fire Nation. _You must not be seen with him!_ It’s for your own safety.”

Shiza began to ask him what he meant, but then she recalled the anger that had been in Ozai’s eyes as he beheld their picnic. 

_It’s all your fault. **Your** fault._

“All right,” she said, blinking away tears. “Can you at least make sure he gets this?” She held out the ash banana cake. Prince Iroh nodded and took it. 

When Shiza got back to her rooms, all the tears she’d been holding back for the past two and a half days came flooding out of her at once, and she cried herself to sleep. 

A week later, she gathered with the rest of the court to hear the terms of Zuko’s banishment read. By standing on her tiptoes, she was able to catch a brief glimpse of the prince, facial features completely obscured by the blanket draped over his head, as he entered the palanquin that would take him away from the palace. Prince Iroh was his sole companion.

Although Shiza knew that this would possibly be the last she ever saw of him, she had no tears left to shed.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The birth proved to be another difficult one, and Father only permitted Mother and Rin to attend. However, this time Shiza spat out the opium when Dr. Huang’s back was turned, so she felt more in control and didn’t need the help of the forceps. Her second son was born at ten in the morning after a twenty-hour labor, sporting the round face of a Sei’naka and a head of hair that hilariously stood up on end. Shiza’s heart felt every bit as flooded with love as it had been with Zoren.

She found herself hoping that Ozai wouldn’t do an in-person visit this time. Although he acknowledged all children whose mothers were of noble birth, if he sent a courier with said acknowledgement instead of showing up himself, the mother was expected to leave court as soon as she’d healed. So far during his reign, Shiza and Naoko were the only mothers who had been given the (supposed) privilege of staying. 

However, her hopes were dashed when he did, in fact, show up. Shiza wasn’t sure why he’d even bothered, since his visit was even shorter than it had been the first time around. All he did was look at his newest son for a few seconds without holding him, frown, and proclaim the infant’s name to be Teza. Shiza knew that this had been the name of Fire Lord Sozin’s dim-witted youngest son, who had died in a drunken komodo-rhino accident at the age of twenty. Even she was aware that being named after this person was not an honor. She was puzzled as she tried to think of how even Ozai could manage to find fault in a two-hour-old baby. However, he had not specified how he wanted the name to be spelled, so Shiza used a different character for the “za”: the same one that was used in her own name. 

Merely a few weeks later, while Shiza was still recovering (although thankfully no major infections this time), another event of significance occurred for their family: Rin got married. Her husband, a man in his mid-twenties named Wei, was a rising star in the colonial bureaucracy, and he seemed quite taken with Rin from what Shiza observed at the wedding. Her sister, who was delighted to be wed at long last, would live a life of comfort and influence. The only problem was that she’d have to move across the sea.

“So…I guess we’re not going to be seeing each other for a while,” Rin said the day before she departed, while she stood in Shiza’s parlor.

“M-hm,” Shiza answered. She was sitting in her favorite chair, feeding Teza. Zoren sat at her feet, attempting to imitate her by pressing his beloved stuffed platypus bear to his chest. 

“There’s something I need to tell you, although you’re not going to like it,” Rin admitted. “I’ve heard…certain rumors. I’m sorry to spring it on you like this, but I kept putting it off waiting for the right time to speak up, and now’s my last chance.”

“What rumors?” Shiza asked. Teza had finished feeding, and she propped him against her shoulder to begin the process of burping.

Rin looked down and bit her lip. “They’re saying that Teza isn’t the Fire Lord’s child.”

Shiza was lost. “That’s stupid. Who else’s could he possibly be?”

“They think he’s Prince Zuko’s.”

It took a few seconds for Shiza’s brain to register this. When it did, she wanted to scream, which she barely managed to suppress because she didn’t want to scare the babies.

“That’s _disgusting!_ We were _friends_. How could anyone ever think that I would…he was twelve when I got pregnant with Teza. He was a _child!_ ”

“So were you,” Rin pointed out.

“That’s different,” Shiza said automatically. _But was it, really?_ “And anyway, I wasn’t twelve. How is that…is that even possible?!”

“They seem to think it was. I didn’t ask for details.”

Teza had successfully been burped, and Shiza took the opportunity to hold him in the crook of one arm while she used the other to rub her forehead. The gossipmongers at court had twisted her innocent friendship with the prince into something completely vile. Were they just trying to smear her name to cause her to fall from favor…or did they genuinely think that every single male-female relationship where the participants were remotely of childbearing age and unrelated had to involve sex?

“Does O…the Fire Lord believe this?” she inquired. Rin shrugged, but Shiza believed she already knew the answer. If he did give these rumors credence, even if only as a convenient excuse, it would explain a lot of things that previously hadn’t added up. All this time, she’d assumed that Ozai had been mad because he thought that Zuko’s friendship with her was distracting the prince from his firebending lessons…

“Well, what do you think I should do?” she asked, unable to keep the quaver out of her voice. 

“Keep your head down. Don’t make a big deal about it,” Rin advised. “If you deny everything, they’ll see that as proof of your guilt. Just try to survive. I’ll try to see if I can do anything to help…but I’ll be living far away and my hands are kind of tied.”

At least they parted on fairly good terms. With Rin, that was never a given.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was all alone now. Father still wanted nothing to do with her, and whatever Mother’s private feelings may be, she would not contradict her husband. And the palace was no longer the safe haven that Shiza had once seen it as. Every day, it seemed like, she fit in another piece of this painful puzzle.

Seeing the full reality of her situation was like waking up from an overly long daytime nap. One planned to sleep for a short time, and felt warm and comfortable under the covers while drifting off, only to wake up five hours later groggy, soaked in sweat from the blankets, and mouth tasting like someone had poured toxic waste from a munitions factory into it. Now that her eyes had been opened, she realized that Naoko had been right this entire time. No one had ever respected her; they’d just seen her as the Fire Lord’s little plaything. She could imagine the men who had so solemnly bowed in her wake starting to laugh as soon as she was out of earshot. And Ozai himself had been lying to her the entire time she’d known him about basically everything. Probably the only things he’d liked about her had been her childlike appearance and shy, submissive nature. Any improvements she thought she’d seen in his behavior were either products of her imagination, or perhaps even him catching onto her and playing along for his own amusement. 

She followed Rin’s advice and focused on survival. When her clothes started wearing out, she mended them herself if possible rather than annoy the Fire Lord with too many requests for more money. She never directly addressed the rumors surrounding Teza’s parentage, except for sometimes subtly emphasizing their _two_ sons when updating Ozai about their development. When the Fire Lord wanted her, she lay there and pretended that this was happening to someone else, and that she was safe in her rooms playing with her children. Sometimes he let her get away with this; other times, when he was feeling especially spiteful, he’d pleasure her so she’d be forced to focus on him. 

She knew that he wanted her to conceive again. Nevertheless, she was careful to take measures to prevent that. Given her history of complicated labors, she didn’t want to risk her own life to have more children. If she were to die, her sons and new baby would be entirely at Ozai’s mercy. She even got Dr. Huang to agree that any further pregnancies would be high-risk for her, so Ozai could never say that she was hiding it from him. Predictably, the Fire Lord was somewhat displeased by this development, yet he continued to send for her. She guessed that now that he could no longer seduce her into being his willing whore, he had decided to take pleasure in tormenting her instead. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

She’d used to love mornings with Ozai. Sometimes she’d wake up nestled in his strong arms; other times, she’d be alone in bed as he got in some early morning practice or scribbled down notes at his desk. Either way, he’d always be back with her soon. He particularly delighted in drawing the bed’s thick curtains shut and satisfying his (and her) lust as the servants walked around the rooms, bringing in the breakfast tray and setting out clothing and the equipment necessary for morning ablutions. Every now and then, he didn’t even bother with closing the curtains all the way.

Shiza had been so embarrassed the first time he’d done this, holding her hands over her mouth to make sure that not a single sound escaped. However, there was a certain thrill to it. And she’d quickly learned that the louder she was, the more likely Ozai was to allow her to eat breakfast with him after. 

This particular day, though, she refused to make any sounds other than some involuntary gasps as she was pushed into, and counted the seconds until it was over. 

“You despise me,” he whispered into her ear after he was finished. Well, that wasn’t exactly anything new; Shiza wondered why he was bringing it up now. Perhaps he meant it as a test. She didn’t think that simply agreeing with him would go over well, but she had never been a good liar like Princess Azula either. 

In the end, she settled for a careful, “Does it matter whether I do or not?”

The Fire Lord paused for a few seconds. Finally, he responded with, “No.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Every time that she thought she’d gotten used to things, said things proved her wrong by getting even worse. 

First had come her awful realization at Azula’s twelfth birthday party. As someone who knew Ozai almost as well as the back of her own hand, who was hypervigilant to even the most minuscule changes in his demeanor, she could detect the things that probably no one else in the room except Azula noticed. Things such as how the Fire Lord’s fingers dug into his daughter’s scalp with what was ostensibly an affectionate touch, the gleam in his eyes that had nothing to do with paternal pride as he whispered to her, and, most damning of all, the subtle adjustments he made in his posture when he was sexually aroused.

As soon as it was socially acceptable to leave, she ran to her rooms and threw up. (And she had never been so glad in her life to be currently menstruating; otherwise she may have had fears of potential failure of contraception.) How had she missed this?! Nearly an entire year of wondering who Ozai’s new favorite was, and it had been there in front of her face all along. Azula had always written off the bruises littering her body as coming from her firebending training. And Shiza had believed her. This had been the one depth to which she’d assumed Ozai hadn’t sunken…but Shiza had misjudged him yet again. And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

She recalled something Naoko had said to her a few months ago during one of their dinnertime “discussions.”

“Don’t think you won because you have two children!” she’d yelled, gesturing with a cup full of wine. “They’re both boys, so it doesn’t count! Everyone knows that the Fire Lord likes daughters better.”

By this point, most of Naoko’s insults tended to run together, and it was hard for Shiza to recall what she’d said when. This, on the other hand, had stuck with her, for reasons that were unclear at the time yet evident now. It was amazing how close Naoko had come to figuring out the truth without ever realizing it.

The next morning, while Shiza was dressing Azula, the princess demanded to know why Shiza kept staring at her. Shiza, never possessed of a quick wit, couldn’t think of a good answer, and eventually stammered herself into silence as Azula glared at her. 

Then, the following year, there was the whole mess with a girl called Mari. Mari was from a wealthy colonial family, and had been sent to the home islands to get a proper education. Her host family were regulars at court, and at some point, they had introduced Mari to Ozai. Although Shiza hadn’t seen the seduction that followed, she had a pretty good idea of how it may have played out from her own experience. Mari would obviously have been lonely and homesick, and Ozai would likely have told her how he himself had often been sent away to isolated country estates as a child. He’d certainly mentioned this plenty of times to Shiza when he went off on tangents during his evening tirades, making it seem like his parents had banished him for no reason. She was starting to suspect that this wasn’t the case.

Regardless of exactly which strategy he had used, though, the inevitable occurred. Poor Mari had only just turned thirteen, and Ozai managed to impregnate her anyway. However, there was something he hadn’t anticipated…she was made of slightly sterner stuff than Shiza had been, and didn’t fall in love with him. In her despair, she had written to her parents, who actually cared about their daughter and were furious at the Fire Lord. Over and over, they had attempted to either bring her back home or go to the palace themselves, but Ozai had forbidden it. Thus, Mari had been entirely without her loved ones when she went into labor. 

That, too, had been a disaster. Again, Shiza hadn’t witnessed it herself, but had heard the shocked whispers from those who had. Mari’s labor had ended up lasting more than three days. Dr. Huang, for reasons unfathomable to Shiza, didn’t do any surgical intervention. His trusty forceps had failed him, and he’d ended up having to break the baby’s collarbone so its shoulders could fit through Mari’s underdeveloped pelvis. Any permanent effects that this trauma might have had on the baby, a girl named Fuyuko, couldn’t yet be determined. However, the impact on the mother was immediately obvious. Shiza had called on Mari with a little gift, knowing how much Zuko and Mai’s visit had meant to _her_ , but the younger girl stared straight ahead with dead eyes, never acknowledging Shiza’s presence.

Ozai had no use for a concubine who was thus “ruined,” so he finally allowed Mari’s parents to collect their daughter and granddaughter. Apparently, this episode was where the nobility drew the line, and most of them removed their own daughters from court. However, their concern did not extend to young servant girls, of whom there were hundreds for Ozai to choose from. 

(Sometimes she wondered how old–or young–Ozai had thought _she_ was when they’d first met.)

Shiza quickly learned that her brain could only process so many horrible things before she was forced to numb herself. After enough times of hearing high-pitched screams coming from Ozai’s bedroom (he wasn’t bothering with covering their mouths anymore), or seeing sobbing girls Azula’s age or even younger being hurriedly escorted through side halls with bags of hush money, she no longer felt horrified like she knew she ought to. Instead, she simply felt exhausted…and guilty that she couldn’t feel more.

The sooner she learned to cope with the fact that she could do nothing to help them, the better.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somehow, life went on. Shiza kept her mouth shut and her eyes averted. She had been promoted to the position of Senior Lady-in-Waiting, which meant that she no longer had to concern herself with daily minutiae such as herbal tea and flower gathering. As long as she wasn’t with Ozai, she was expected to report to Azula in the morning for dressing, hair, and makeup, and in the evening to oversee the princess’s preparation for bed. This freed up much more of her day than she’d previously had to spend with her sons.

Zoren was at the age where he got into everything if not carefully watched for every second, and where ninety percent of his vocabulary seemed to consist of the words “No!” and “Why?” Two months before his third birthday, he bent actual fire for the first time. He then promptly set his own tunic ablaze on purpose, learning the hard way how quickly flames could spread. Thankfully, Shiza had gotten to him before he was seriously hurt, and after a short time of crying much more in fear than in pain, he returned to his usual mischief.

Her sweet boy was still there under the rebellious toddler, though. One afternoon, after a particularly taxing night with Ozai, Shiza had been curled up in her bed while the nurse saw to the children. She’d heard the door creak open and the familiar noise of little feet padding across the floor, and looked down to see Zoren standing at her bedside, offering her a cookie. This was the special cookie he got when he’d been a particularly good boy that day. He got such a big smile on his face whenever he earned one, and now he was giving it to her. She tried to explain that this was _his_ cookie, but he’d have none of that.

“Noooo. You eat,” he insisted. In the end, they reached a compromise by agreeing to split it in half. Afterwards, he climbed up on the bed with Shiza, his golden eyes filled with a look of poignant concern that the origin of those eyes could never hope to replicate, and they napped together. 

Teza was a sweetie, too, and unlike his brother didn’t get into trouble much. His favorite activity was going to the pond to see the turtleducks. Whenever Shiza walked past him, he almost invariably lifted his arms up as a sign he wanted to be held and cuddled. Although he and Zoren had typical sibling squabbles, their relationship was close overall.

Shiza did worry about Teza sometimes. He was slow to hit developmental milestones, not taking his first steps until he was fifteen months old and not truly talking for several more months after that. He was also very sensitive to certain textures of both food and clothing, and rarely smiled. He had been the inspiration behind Shiza’s invention of the Tickle Monster, because it was one of the few things that could reliably make him laugh. None of this made her love him any less, of course; she was just concerned what Ozai might do if he found out. 

After all, she knew what he did with offspring that he deemed weak…

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zoren’s third birthday passed pleasantly, with a low-key celebration. Shiza had invited the nurse, along with her children’s older half-siblings Lanying and Azen, to partake in the festivities. (She’d invited Eri as well, so Naoko couldn’t complain that her daughter had been left out, but felt no surprise when the invitation was declined.) For food, Shiza had ordered a wide variety of kid-friendly dim sum dishes from the kitchen, and had also bought a few small birthday gifts. Zoren had been particularly enthralled with his five new pairs of big-boy underwear. (Shiza knew it wouldn’t be too much longer until he’d be utterly humiliated by such gifts. Right now, though, he was still at the stage where he’d gleefully update anyone who listened with his successes in toilet training.)

The next day was a different story. Much earlier in the morning than her sons were used to waking up, someone pounded loudly on the door. An exasperated Shiza opened the door while holding a crying Teza on her hip. 

“What is this about?” she snapped. “My children were still sleeping.”

The person who had knocked turned out to be Ozai’s oldest son Ichiro, who was right around Shiza’s age. His interpersonal skills were almost nonexistent, and he offered nothing in the way of an apology. 

“I’m here to pick up your older son,” he grunted. 

Shiza’s brow furrowed. “Zoren? What do you want with him?”

Ichiro sighed as if Shiza were the stupidest person he had ever encountered in his entire life. 

“To take him to the dormitory, of course,” he replied.

 _The dormitory?_ It wasn’t like she was unaware that this would be coming eventually. Ozai had set it up shortly after he became Fire Lord, and his baseborn children were sent there full-time if they had been proven to be firebenders by the time they were around three. The key word was _around_. She hadn’t realized that they were going to be so literal about it this time. 

“I…I haven’t had time to prepare him,” she said, fighting the urge to slam the door in Ichiro’s face. “Can it wait for a few weeks?”

Ichiro shook his head. “Fire Lord’s orders. If you have an objection, bring it up with him.”

There was no way that she could take him in a fight. He was tall and muscular and a firebender, while she had roughly the combat skills and strength of a toothpick. Although she’d grown a bit since she was fourteen, she was still under five feet tall. She had had no choice other than to surrender her son. 

That night, Ozai summoned her, and she used the opportunity to plead her case as Ichiro suggested. He refused to listen. 

“I have been more than lenient with you with regards to how you coddle your children,” he said. “And now, it is time for…”–he paused here, seemingly having forgotten his own son’s name–“ _Zoren_ to learn how to be independent. The other children do well enough without their mothers.”

“But he’s only three…” Shiza whispered. Ozai scowled.

“Enough. I don’t want to hear one further word from you on this matter. Stop wasting my time and fulfill your duties.”

He gagged her that night, presumably so she’d stay quiet. He needn’t have bothered; Shiza was already speechless from anger. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Over the following months, she came to know much about life in the dormitory. The boys slept in one room, and the girls in another, in narrow beds that were all in a row. All except the youngest were expected to make their own beds and pick up after themselves, and in the mornings, each was assigned their own extra chore to do that day. Thankfully, there were servants to do the laundry, the heavier cleaning, and most of the cooking. Meals were served communally, at a long table; Shiza had to admit that, if nothing else, everyone was always well-fed here. Much of the day was spent exercising…outside if the weather permitted it, and in the dorm’s inside track and sparring room if it didn’t. The dormitory also included a classroom for the older children on the premises, so they could get a basic education in addition to their physical training. The routine scarcely varied, although most of the dorm’s residents were too young to fully appreciate how mind-numbing it was. It was as if they were practicing for some enormous event sometime in the future; what that might be, Shiza wasn’t certain.

All aspects of dorm living were overseen by Anshi. She, and her younger siblings Ichiro and Zhilan, were the first cousins of Naoko, although Zhilan was the only one of them who looked even remotely like her. Anshi seemed competent enough, although often overwhelmed by the massive responsibility of raising an ever-increasing number of children. And she had the added stress of Ozai’s “inspections.” These were usually unannounced, and as soon as he entered the dorm, every single person had to (sometimes literally) drop whatever they were doing and kowtow until told otherwise. If Ozai found anything not to his liking, he would scold Anshi about it in front of everyone. The children were always to address him as “Fire Lord” if he asked them questions, never “Father.” Every morning after breakfast, they recited the Fire Oath as if they were ordinary Fire Nation schoolchildren. Zoren had no idea of the truth of the matter, and Shiza wasn’t sure how many of the kids did know. 

All of that aside, her older son adjusted surprisingly quickly to the dorm, and Shiza relaxed ever so slightly when it became clear that he even enjoyed it most of the time. He liked running around in the fresh air, and, always eager to please, even looked forward to his assigned chore of the day. But there were also hints that not everything was as it should be. Shiza winced every time he called her “Ma’am” instead of “Mommy,” and one time it was all she could do to keep her smile on her face as Zoren regaled her with the story of how he’d given new arrival Nozomi a nosebleed in the sparring ring. When he’d first moved into the dorm, she had attempted to bend the rules, picking him up for sleepovers every night. However, Ozai had caught on to this in a matter of days, and had forbidden her from signing Zoren out more than once a week. Shiza was certain at first that she would never be able to endure this. However, she eventually got used to it just as she did everything else. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Over the next year, things weren’t great, but at least they were stable. About six months before Sozin’s Comet, Princes Zuko and Iroh had been declared traitors to the crown, and Princess Azula had been sent after them. As long as Shiza forbade herself from thinking about that, though, she could actually pretend she was happy for brief stretches of time. She was now allowed to visit Zoren at the dorm during his hour of free time, and used these opportunities to prepare Teza for _his_ impending move there. Ozai had been bothering her a lot less than usual as well. 

In fact, the Fire Lord had been in such a good mood lately that Shiza had decided to risk asking permission to increase her overnights with Zoren to twice a week. She headed over to his private office, knowing that this was the time of day the Fire Lord looked at correspondence when he didn’t have a war meeting. She raised her hand to knock on the door, only to stop short when she heard a child’s voice coming from inside the room. 

“What that?” the child asked. Shiza could narrow down the speaker to either Nozomi or Eri, but would hazard a guess that it was the latter. Everyone knew that Eri held an exalted position among the bastards, and she couldn’t imagine Ozai allowing any other of his small children in the room.

“I don’t know, Eri,” Ozai replied, quickly proving Shiza’s guess correct. “Shall we open it and find out?” There came the sound of a scroll being unrolled, and then a sigh of irritation.

“The southern colonies that got hit by that out-of-season typhoon are asking for aid again,” he explained, as if talking to someone his own age instead of a child barely older than Teza. “And this after I have already sent money. Twice. Now Eri…do you remember what we do with annoying letters asking for more money?”

“BURN IT!” Eri shrieked. Shiza could imagine Ozai wincing as the child shouted right into his ear, and it made her smile a little. 

“You are correct,” he replied. “Shall we burn it together?”

“Yeah!” Shiza could just hear the little _whoosh_ as the paper went up in flames. What was even going on in there? On the surface, it seemed like some relatively innocent father-daughter time (albeit with dubious moral lessons), but with Ozai, that didn’t ring true.

Meanwhile, the Fire Lord had opened up another letter. “Hm. An explosion in the Fire Fountain City commercial district. When will those idiots remember that the place is built on a natural gas deposit? Perhaps they should talk with the southern colonies; then both their problems would be solved. What do you think about that, Eri?”

“Burn it?” Eri asked hopefully; it was clear that she hadn’t understood a word her father had just said. 

Ozai chuckled. “No, not this time, unfortunately. Your mother’s father oversees that land, and we don’t want to anger him. Not over something like this, at least. We’ll set this aside for the time being. Would you like to pick out which scroll I should look at next instead?”

Eri rummaged around for a few moments before saying, “’ _Dat_ one!”

“An excellent choice,” Ozai told her. “That is from the Princess Azula...see her seal?” There was silence for a few minutes as Ozai opened the letter and began to read.

Finally, he remarked, “Good news. She’s crossed the Mo Ce sea safely, and has been traveling up and down the coast of the colonies.”

“’Zula getted the _traders_?” Eri asked. 

“ _Got_. And _traitors_ ,” Ozai corrected. Then, “No, not yet. But she does think she found a good lead, and will be investigating that. Perhaps she is working on it even as we speak.”

“Mama no…” Eri began, before presumably realizing that she’d made a grammar mistake and searching for the correct word, “ _doesn’t_ like ‘Zula.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Ozai sighed. “Your mama still has her heart set on becoming Fire Lady, but she will never be one. But perhaps, many years from now, _you_ might. What would you think about that?”

From the tone of Eri’s voice, she had responded enthusiastically in the affirmative. Shiza, however, was too busy jamming her fist into her own mouth to hear the exact words. She ran off, leaving Ozai to keep pouring his sweet poison into his daughter’s ear. 

Fire Lady? Had she heard that correctly? _Fire Lady?_ The Fire Lord was planning to marry his own daughter?! In her darkest of moments, she had wondered if Ozai refused to remarry because he was waiting for Azula to be developed enough to safely bear children, but how did this fit in? Was Eri meant as a backup in the event that Azula failed him? Or was he planning on having multiple daughter-wives at the same time?

On the way back to her rooms, she’d happened to run into Naoko. She’d tried to warn her, but the taller woman had refused to listen. _Really, Shiza, what were you expecting?_

After she made it to her bedroom and spent considerable time screaming into her pillows, she was able to think things through a little more rationally. She decided that Ozai was most likely not molesting Eri right now; that would be a little extreme even for him. Although the girl’s physical well-being didn’t appear to be immediately in danger, the emotional grooming was obviously well underway.

How much longer would she be safe, though? How much longer would any of them be safe?

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Over the next few days, Shiza did manage to score a small victory. The next time Ozai requested her in his bed, she’d tried a new tactic. She’d shown up at his room with her hair in pigtails, attired in the type of loose short nightdress often worn by small girls. Her goal was to please the Fire Lord enough to get him to grant her more time with Zoren. She had definitely succeeded in the first part of the plan; his jaw had actually gone slack for a moment as the guards let Shiza in. And while she hadn’t gotten permission for twice weekly overnights as she wanted, Ozai had allowed her to keep Zoren until suppertime the next day every other week. Shiza tried to console herself with that as she spent much of the next day huddled in the bathtub, scrubbing herself over and over again until her skin was raw. She hatedhated _hated **hated**_ him.

However, she continued to put on a brave face for her children. On the first of Zoren’s extended visits, the three of them spent the evening playing board games and eating fire gummies. The next day, Shiza took Zoren and Teza to the lake, where they did some splashing around and took the barge out. She was trying to take things one day at a time, and this day had been a good one so far.

When she and Zoren arrived at the dorm, dinner was in the process of being laid out on the table, and things seemed pleasant and cozy. However, the children had scarcely had time to take a bite or two of their food before Ozai’s manservant ran in to announce an inspection. Honestly, couldn’t he have at least waited until his children had had time to finish eating?

The instant the Fire Lord walked in, Izumi froze, pupils dilating in terror. Then the quiet, gentle girl abruptly let out a terrified shout. 

“NO! _NO_!” 

Shiza had never seen a face display such sheer panic before, not even Zuko’s at the Agni Kai. Anshi’s frantic efforts to calm the now wordlessly screaming Izumi were all in vain. After a couple of minutes of this, Ozai harshly berated his eldest daughter for not having better control over her charges and left. 

It took several minutes, but Anshi and Shiza managed to half-drag and half-carry Izumi into her bed. Back in the dining room, Shiza heard Kenzo and Ruanyu attempting to calm the confused and upset younger children.

“Shit,” Anshi muttered. “Shitshit _shit_.” Then, to Shiza, “Could you stay with her for a bit?”

“Sure,” said Shiza. Izumi was sobbing so hard that her whole body was shaking, and she held onto Shiza’s neck for dear life. 

“It’s all right,” she murmured. “No one is going to hurt you here.” If only she could guarantee that…

In the other room, she heard Anshi say, “Uzeko. You are our fastest runner. Go to the palace and find Zhilan. Tell her to bring her erhu.” A couple of minutes later, she returned to the girls’ bedroom with a bottle of a very familiar reddish-brown liquid. 

“Look, ‘Zumi, see? I brought you your sleepy medicine,” she said softly. After the liquid was administered, the two of them sat with Izumi as her sobs faded to hiccups. 

“You’ve been giving her _opium_?” Shiza hissed.

“It’s the only thing that works!” Anshi answered defensively, her voice similarly in a whisper. 

Zhilan and Uzeko arrived in good time, out of breath from the run. Zhilan set up her erhu and played quiet music until Izumi fell asleep. By the time she finished playing the last piece, her own eyes were red. 

“What was that all about?” Shiza demanded as Anshi walked her to the front door. She tried to open it, but Shiza stood in front of it, blocking her. She resolved to stay there until she got some answers.

“She’s not right in the head; you know that!” Anshi protested. “Sometimes these things just…happen. There’s no way to tell for sure exactly what’s running through that brain of hers…”

“Oh, I think you know,” Shiza retorted. “I think we both know.”

Anshi sighed in resignation, looking in every direction to make sure that no children were listening in. “All right, _all right_. They came for her a month ago, the night after Princess Azula left. I was in the boys’ bedroom leading their evening meditation. By the time we realized she was missing, it was too late. The next morning, they brought her back, and…she hasn’t been able to tell us exactly what happened, but we know it was bad. Let’s leave it at that. We were just making progress in getting her to eat regularly again and sleep through the night…and now this. Back to Square One.”

“Pardon me for asking, but…is there any chance that she could be pregnant?” Shiza inquired. She hated that she had to ask this, but when Ozai was involved, it was always a concern.

To her relief, Anshi shook her head firmly. “None.” For once, not everything that could possibly go wrong _had_ gone wrong…not that this would be of much solace to Izumi.

As Shiza began the trek back to the palace, her head was spinning. Izumi had always been an oddity among the bastards. She was a pretty child, with her large eyes, long lashes, and head of dark brown lustrous hair, but the fact remained that she was a nonbender. No one had quite understood why she was living in the dorm in the first place, when Ozai had multiple nonbending sons who didn’t live there. She also lacked the muscle coordination to learn more than the most basic katas, so while her half-siblings were in training, she was permitted to sit a short distance away with her beloved poetry and books, in her own little world. She even communicated mostly through writing poems, and really only Zhilan and Azula were good enough at interpreting them to hold actual conversations with her. Certainly, Shiza was hopeless at it; she could barely _read_ , much less analyze poetry.

Now, everything was clear. Ozai had brought the pliant and defenseless Izumi to the dorm for the sole purpose of sexually abusing her someday. She was ten months younger than Azula, so she’d be the obvious choice to replace the princess if Azula happened to be absent. But then something had gone wrong, and he’d cast her aside without so much as a second thought, as if she were one more in the flood of nameless servants. 

But they never were actually nameless, were they? It had just been more convenient for her to think of them that way.

What was _wrong_ with her? Ozai would want her to do that, to be so detached about all this. Every last one of his victims had a name, and interests, and a life that had been cruelly shattered, just like Izumi. Shiza had kept her head down and minded her own business for too long, paralyzed by the magnitude of all she couldn’t do. It was time for her to focus on what she _could_ do: snap out of her funk, take action, and get her children to safety. Then, perhaps, the rest would follow.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

First, she submitted an official request to leave court. She got no response, but she had expected that. So she began making trips to the _Izayoi_ as often as she could, bringing small amounts of supplies each time: a few rations of nonperishable food here, an item of clothing there. Packing the boat with everything at once would raise suspicion. She took the boys out sailing every chance that she got, to accustom them to the open water. In the middle of the night, she’d sneak into the palace’s training arena and run laps around the track, attempting to build up her stamina. It was impossible for her to know for sure when the escape would be attempted; she was aware it might take her months or even years to get just the right opportunity. 

Teza turned three in late spring. They celebrated it several days early so Zoren would be able to join in. Since noise and activity made Teza anxious, the party was only the three of them eating some of Teza’s favorite foods for dinner in her rooms. The day after her younger son’s actual birthday, Ichiro paid another visit, and Teza duly joined his older brother in the dorm. Shiza had been cautiously optimistic that he wouldn’t mind it; he loved his routines and schedules, and dorm life was nothing if not strictly scheduled.

Unfortunately, this was not the case. He spent most of his time there clinging to Zoren for dear life. His older brother did his best to protect his younger brother, but the fact remained that Teza was too slow and too clumsy to keep up. In addition, he had shown no signs of firebending yet, not even sparks. (Which begged the question of why Ozai had wanted him to stay in the dorm in the first place. Shiza didn’t think that he was planning to abuse Teza in _that way_ , so perhaps it was simply yet another means of punishing her indirectly.) When she picked her sons up each week, Zoren was his normal perky self, but Teza’s eyes were often puffy from crying.

“Just hang in there, buddy,” she’d whisper, stroking his hair as he fell asleep during the overnight visits. “I’m trying to get you out of there as soon as I can.”

One thing was now clear: she did not have the luxury of waiting years to flee. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks after Teza’s birthday, there was some good news for a change: Azula had brought Ba Sing Se to heel, Zuko had had a change of heart and killed the Avatar, and they were coming home together. 

Shiza had never given much thought to the Avatar before. This was partly intentional. One night, soon after Ozai had claimed her, he’d mentioned that he’d spent two years looking for the Avatar when he was a teenager. Shiza had asked why finding the Avatar was so important. This was in the days before the famine incident, so she hadn’t been as guarded with her tongue. He hadn’t quite gotten angry that time, though he did firmly tell her not to worry her little head about it, because it was nothing that a child like her could hope to understand. 

However, one would have had to be very oblivious indeed to not notice the excitement and tension when the Avatar returned. Shiza had heard that, instead of an old man like they’d all been thinking, he had been merely a child, younger even than Princess Azula was. She felt weird when she pondered the implications of that too long, so she tried to focus on the positives. 

Zoren was eager to (re-)meet his half-brother. Shiza knew that it was highly unlikely that he actually had any memory of Zuko, but she thought that he’d convinced himself that he did. Now that it was safe to display such things again, Shiza got out a sketch of Zuko with Zoren that had been drawn a few months before the prince’s banishment, which she had kept hidden away in the closet. She had it framed, and Zoren kissed the glass every time he walked by it. Teza, on the other hand, didn’t really comprehend what was going on. 

The day that the royal siblings’ ship pulled into the harbor, Zoren was beside himself with excitement. He kept running back and forth from the toy chest to the door, putting all of his favorite toys in an increasingly large pile to show Zuko, until Shiza told him that Prince Zuko had been on a long boat ride and would probably be tired, and that maybe it would be a good idea for Zoren to pick one toy to show him and save the rest for later. He ended up choosing the stuffed platypus-bear, just as Shiza had predicted he would.

Finally, Zora and Teza’s nurse returned with the news they’d been waiting for: Zuko was home, sitting by the turtleduck pond, and was interested in seeing them. Zoren was all ready to rush out the door right then and there, but Shiza made him stay put for one final talk.

“You remember what I told you, right?” she asked. “About how Prince Zuko won’t look exactly the way he does in the picture?”

Zoren nodded. “You said he had a big boo-boo on his face.”

“That’s right, smart boy!” Shiza said. “And remember the other thing I said: that you are not under any circumstances to point at it or ask him about it or say mean things about it.”

“What’s ‘circumstances?’”

“Uh…well…” –she wasn’t quite sure how to put it into words– “It means just don’t do it. Ever.”

“Okay.”

As promised, Zuko was at the pond. His back was to them, and he appeared to be deep in contemplation. Shiza had to do a little throat-clear to get his attention. Then he was turning around and standing up, and she saw his face for the first time in over three years. 

His scar was…actually not quite as bad as she’d imagined it, albeit still very prominent. She forced herself not to shudder as she remembered how he’d gotten it, lest he think she was repulsed by him. That wasn’t the only thing that had changed about him, though. For one, he’d grown. While he was nowhere near his father’s height, he still stood more than half a head taller than her. He was also thin to the point that Shiza was worried for his health, and there was a haunted look in his eyes that didn’t completely go away even as he smiled down at Zoren. He’d obviously been through a lot in those three years, but so had she. She wondered what he might think about how she had changed. 

She and Zoren bowed to Zuko, despite his insistence that they didn’t have to do that. Then Zoren ran over to him and hugged him tightly around the waist. 

“Uh…hi there,” Zuko said. It was clear that he didn’t know how to react to small children launching themselves at him. Shiza waved as well, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

“I’m Zoren!” her son said after he let go. “And this is Platty the platypus bear. And you’re Prince Zuko. Mommy showed me you in the picture. Anshi said you _vanquished_ the _Avatar_.” He pronounced these two new vocabulary words with great care. 

It was clear that Zuko wasn’t comfortable with this subject.

“Yeah. Well…you’ve certainly gotten big. You were just a baby when I last saw you.” 

Zoren giggled. “I’m not a baby! I’m four!” He held out the correct number of fingers to demonstrate. “And I can firebend, and count to a hundred, and I can use chopsticks, and I weigh _thirty-six pounds_!”

“Those are some major accomplishments,” Zuko replied.

“And…and…guess what else?!” Zoren asked. 

“I dunno. What?”

Zoren pulled up his pant leg, revealing a large, scabbing-over scrape on his knee. “We match!”

Oh no. 

“I’m so sorry, Prince Zuko,” Shiza immediately said. “Zoren, you apologize right now.”

Zoren frowned.

“But it wasn’t the _circumstances_!” he protested, in an affronted voice that would probably be hilarious when she looked back on this much later. Technically, he was right; he hadn’t broken any of the rules Shiza had made. That meant it was all on her for not being clearer. 

“No, really. It’s okay,” Zuko said. And it was true, he didn’t look upset so much as simply puzzled. Was he so used to people being disgusted by him that he didn’t know how to react to a child’s unconditional acceptance?

“Please forgive him,” she requested anyway. “He was only trying to say something nice. Weren’t you, Zoren?”

“Uh-huh!” Zoren confirmed. “And also, Mommy matches too! Because of her wrist!”

Shiza’s face flooded with color. Even after all this time, she was still extremely self-conscious about her burn scars. She knew that Zuko of all people wouldn’t care, but still preferred not to talk about it. 

“Thank you so much for your time, Prince Zuko, but it’s getting late. I have to go get Teza from the nurse and take both boys back to the dorm.”

Zuko looked directly at her for the first time this entire conversation. “That’s your younger child’s name? _Teza_?” He raised his one remaining eyebrow. Naturally, he’d be fully aware of that name’s context. 

“Yes. He’s very shy, so I didn’t bring him this time.” Perhaps it was better for Zuko not to be seen with him much anyway, the rumors being what they were. 

Had Zuko heard those rumors too? No wonder he wanted nothing to do with her.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Princess Azula appeared much the same as ever. When Shiza reported to her rooms for work that evening, the princess acted as if they had been separated for a day, rather than three months. Shiza, on the other hand, had forgotten how soul-crushing this job could be at times. She had no illusions as to what Ozai would ask of his daughter that night, and hated how Azula saw nothing wrong with dressing in in revealing underthings that she was much, _much_ too young to wear. All the princess did was look askance at Shiza when she voiced her concerns. She’d have to get back in the practice of not letting her emotions show.

Prince Zuko also took some getting reaccustomed to. Unlike his sister, he had changed drastically. He had always had an air of melancholy about him, but now it was more like a constant cloud. He continued to avoid talking directly to Shiza or even looking at her. She had to remind herself that he didn’t know the truth about the ash banana cake. As far as he could tell, she had abandoned him just as the others had. Also, Prince Iroh had been imprisoned, so she was sure that this was difficult for Zuko as well. Just a couple of weeks after he got home, he went off on a short trip to Ember Island with Azula and her friends. Shiza had been hoping that this might do him some good, but he came back seeming as much out of it as he’d been when he’d left. (And people were saying that he’d helped burn Admiral Chan’s house down? _What?_ )

Currently, there were only two people who could make Zuko smile. One of them was Mai. The two of them appeared to have picked up where they had left off, although the reinstatement of their betrothal had yet to be officially announced. The other was Zoren. No one could resist his infectious grin and his lively chatter…not even Zuko. Her older son would happily trail after his half-brother all day if allowed. He insisted on wearing his hair in a topknot at all times, imitated Zuko’s gestures, and would even mouth along silently with his words. Every other sentence out of Zoren’s mouth seemed to start with “Prince Zuko said…” or “Prince Zuko did…” They even posed for an updated portrait together.

It was all perfectly adorable, and Shiza was glad that they continued to share this special bond. However, this did have the unfortunate effect of bringing Zoren to the Fire Lord’s attention at exactly the point when Shiza was trying to keep a low profile.

One afternoon around the summer solstice, she was walking with her children in the gardens, bag of vegetable peelings from the kitchen in hand for feeding the turtleducks, when their paths crossed with the Fire Lord’s. Shiza instantly sank into a kowtow while pulling her sons down to do the same. If they were lucky, she thought, he’d just walk on by them and they could all get on with their day.

Luck turned out to be not on their side that day. Zoren came out of his kowtow without being given permission, and ran over to the man he didn’t know was his father before Shiza could stop him.

“Look! Look what Prince Zuko showed me!” he exclaimed. A small tongue of flame emerged from each of his fingertips. Giving a little frown of concentration, he was able to maintain all of them at exactly the same size for several seconds before they flickered out. 

“It’s all in the breath,” he added sagely, as if their ages had been swapped. 

Ozai gave him a curt nod. “Good.” 

“Did you hear that, Mommy!?” Zoren cried out as he ran back to her and Teza. “He said ‘good!’”

“And why wouldn’t he? You’re such a grown-up boy,” Shiza replied while smiling down at him. He looked so proud that she simply didn’t have the heart to scold him. Yet her mind was racing as she looked at Ozai walking past them. Although Zoren appeared to see the Fire Lord as simply the cool and/or scary guy who came to the dorm sometimes to do the inspections, he had picked up on all of his siblings’ desperate struggle for the man’s approval. Ozai was well aware of this, of course, and used it to his advantage. 

What plans might he have for Zoren now that her son had proven himself not just amiable, but talented?

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the day before the eclipse, and everything was in an uproar. No one seemed to know exactly what the plan was for the next day. No matter how horrendous tomorrow might be, though, Shiza at least had something to look forward to. This evening just so happened to be the one she took her kids for an overnight visit, _and_ the week she got to keep them the next day. She was hoping that Ozai would grant them an extra day together, since there wouldn’t be much time for fun tomorrow. 

When Ozai called her to his office after his war meeting, she didn’t really think anything of it. The time of day and location of the meeting made it less likely that he had sex on his mind, and she was hopeful that maybe she could get the arrangements for tomorrow directly from the source. 

She walked into the room to find the Fire Lord sitting at his desk. Countless papers with diagrams incomprehensible to Shiza were strewn across the desk’s surface. Her eyes were naturally drawn to them anyway, but she ignored the impulse to take a closer look, doing the expected kowtow at Ozai’s feet. 

“Rise,” he ordered her, sounding almost bored. “I have some good news for you.”

“Yes?” Shiza asked, eyes fixed on the floor. She remained wary, knowing that she couldn’t take him at his word.

“I have decided to grant your request to leave court,” he informed her. “You may take your younger son with you.”

At first, she sagged in relief. Then, the second half of what he’d said registered. Timidly, she inquired, “What about Zoren?”

Ozai’s posture stiffened; although Shiza couldn’t see it, she knew he was setting his jaw the way he did when someone said something he didn’t like. “He stays here.”

Shiza blinked in disbelief. _This couldn’t be happening!_ She made a sound of protest, but he simply talked over it.

“Don’t start with that. You should be _thanking_ me. Others have not gotten such generous bargains. I could have had _both_ of your children taken away from you if I so pleased,” he said. Was there actually a hint of genuine surprise in his voice that she wasn’t grateful, or was that all in Shiza’s imagination? 

Ozai went on, “Now here is what you are going to do. Tomorrow, you will tell no one of this plan. You will assist Princess Azula with getting ready for the day, and then you will be escorted directly to your own room in the bunker as previously arranged. Your children will be in another room with the other residents of the dormitory. Once the all-clear is given, you will have one hour to say farewell to Zoren. After that time has passed, you will immediately collect your younger son and return to your room to pack your things. A palanquin will take the two of you to your family’s house at sunrise tomorrow. I have spoken with your father, and he has generously allowed you to live there.”

Shiza’s mind reeled as the Fire Lord sat there, as still and intimidating as one of the many statues in his image, awaiting her response. Certainly, she had been concerned about Zoren’s future, and had been expecting that Ozai would try to drive a wedge between them. But…to order her to leave him behind entirely? She hadn’t been anticipating this, and she knew she should have. Her preoccupation with her escape plans had left her complacent.

She thought of the way Zoren threw his head back when he laughed, his zest for life, his surprising insights. She considered Teza, who would be devastated at the loss of his beloved older brother. Then she recalled a third boy, who was introverted like Teza and craved affection and approval just as Zoren did. She thought of what had happened to that boy. 

A spike of defiance drove through her, giving her resolve. Her hands, hidden by her flowing sleeves, clenched into fists. Ozai had made the mistake of a lifetime. He was used to her being passive and malleable, but there was no question of her going along with his schemes this time. She couldn’t abandon Zoren to the mercies of this terrible man. She _wouldn’t!_

“ _No!_ ” she cried out. After her outburst, there was total silence. She had never told him “no” about anything before, unless it was a statement of fact in response to a question.

Ozai continued to not speak as he slowly got out of his chair and walked over to her. Then his hand had her chin in a vise grip and forced it upward; a mockery (or perhaps simply a logical conclusion?) of that moment in the gardens nearly six years ago. She was expecting him to yell at her; what he actually did was much more chilling.

“ _I **will** break you, you know_,” he hissed. Then he abruptly released her, and she fled.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somehow, she got out of there in one piece. She knew she had no choice…she’d have to attempt her escape tomorrow. Things were far from ideal. Teza still had to wear diapers during the night, and she had nowhere near the optimum amount of supplies stowed away on the _Izayoi_. There was no time to form a cohesive plan; she’d have to make it up as she went along. 

Her first stop was to her rooms. She took out needle, thread, and a small piece of fabric, and made a quick alteration to the robe she would wear tomorrow. Then it was off to the messenger hawk mews. She found one which had been trained to go the correct route, and attached a short and frantically scribbled plea to its leg. As she watched the bird fly off, all she could do was hope that the message would reach its recipient in time. Lastly, it was on to the dorm as usual. Anshi’s brow furrowed when she saw her.

“Didn’t the Fire Lord tell you? All of the children are to sleep in the dormitory tonight,” she said.

“He gave me special permission to have my sons with me in the bunker,” Shiza said, trying to project confidence while telling a complete lie. This whole idea hinged on the assumption that communication between the various parties was still not good, and she was proven correct. 

“Really? No one’s telling me _anything_ today,” Anshi complained. “Okay, then. Have fun.”

Everyone was eating informally tonight, so no one found anything amiss when Shiza asked for dinner to be sent up for her room. Since it was in the middle of summer, the sky was still light when they finished eating. She took the kids down to the wooded area in the garden, carrying with her a fish knife that she had swiped from her tray. While Zoren and Teza played some sort of game that seemed to be a combination of hide-and-seek and tag, Shiza brought the knife out and made a few tentative slashes at the air. 

“You’re doing it wrong.” 

Shiza felt like she jumped about a foot in the air. She whirled around to see the Lady Mai emerging from behind a tree. As far as she knew, while Mai’s father was known to be a staunch supporter of the Fire Lord, Mai herself didn’t seem to have much of an opinion either way. Would she keep Shiza’s secret?

“Lady Mai! I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were there!” she exclaimed rather unnecessarily. Lowering her voice, she added, “What was I doing wrong?”

“Keep in mind that my specialty is with throwing knives, not stabbing ones,” Mai forewarned her. “But first of all, you can’t let people sneak up on you like that. Secondly, if you stand completely still like that when wielding the knife, facing your opponent head on, you’ll be a big fat target. If, hypothetically speaking, you were in a situation where you needed to stab someone, you’d need to keep moving. Like so.” She had a shuriken out seemingly in the time it took Shiza to blink, and she turned towards the side and leapt in the air. Shiza didn’t even notice that Mai had thrown the shuriken until it landed with a _thunk_ in a nearby tree. 

“Like this?” She tried to imitate what she’d seen Mai doing. 

The younger girl paused, choosing her words carefully, before saying, “Well…that was marginally better.” 

They ended up working together for nearly two hours, Mai patiently walking her through all the steps. Finally, as it got too dark to see, Mai determined her to be “on the road to adequate.” That would have to suffice. 

“Thank you so much for your time,” Shiza told her as she wiped the sweat off her forehead. 

“Well, it was a more enjoyable way of spending the evening than just walking around wondering what’s eating at Zuko _this_ time,” Mai intoned. An awkwardly long pause followed, then she added in almost a whisper, “He liked you, you know. As in _like_ liked you. Maybe he still does.”

If Shiza had had a list of things she had thought that Mai was going to say next in order of likelihood, that remark would have been somewhere in the hundreds. She was at a loss as to how the taller girl wanted her to reply. All she could think of was a lame, “He can’t like me. He likes you.”

Mai threw up her hands. “I don’t control his brain. He’s allowed to have crushes.”

“Well, maybe once. But he hates me now. He won’t even _look_ at me!” This was embarrassing. She was about to break down in front of a girl who she’d barely spoken to for over three years. This was not for lack of trying on Shiza’s part; she’d made multiple attempts to reach out, but the younger girl had seemed lost in her own bubble of grief. After a while, Shiza had simply given up.

A horrible thought crossed her mind. “You don’t believe those rumors about Teza, do you?” Her younger child came running over as he heard his name, Zoren following closely behind him.

“Of course not,” Mai snapped. “I never pay any attention to their empty gossip. Just know this…Zuko does not hate you. Suffice to say I have my ways of knowing.”

There was an air of finality in her words, so Shiza knew that further questions would be futile. 

“Uh…so…thanks again for helping me with self-defense,” she managed to say, making sure to add in a quick, “Hypothetically.” 

She felt a little better about her chances now. Of course, a dainty little fish knife would not be at all a good choice for an assault weapon against an actual human. She’d need a better one, and she knew where to find it. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, she was up before dawn. She checked quickly to make sure both of her sons were still fast asleep, then made her way to Azula’s rooms. If her plan succeeded, this would be the last day she’d go through with this routine for the rest of her life. Why did that make her feel so conflicted?

**PRESENT**

“Halt!” the leader of the army ordered. Shiza wasn’t certain if this was directed at the rest of the Water Tribesmen or at her, but she stopped just to be safe. She made no effort to hide the sneer of contempt that took over her face. She still believed in the Fire Nation, despite having lost all faith in its ruler, and held no esteem whatsoever for foreign invaders.

“Don’t come any closer!” she told them, painfully aware that she sounded exactly zero percent threatening. 

“We aren’t going to hurt you,” the leader said slowly. ‘We just want to know what you’re doing here. Civilians aren’t supposed to be outside.”

Shiza sized the man up. He was tall and slender. That absurd wolf helmet he was wearing somewhat obscured her view of his face, although he appeared to be roughly Ozai’s age. She stared him down, not moving an inch.

Then, a voice from the rear of the formation.

“Bato. What’s going on?” The formation parted to allow two people through. Apparently, the man who had been speaking with Shiza was actually the second-in-command. The real commander of the troops was a surprisingly handsome man around that same age. It appeared that he had gotten injured at some point during the fighting, since he was walking slowly, supported by a young woman who looked to be about as old as Azula. His daughter, perhaps? Or his mistress? Or both? _Who even knew anymore?_

He didn’t look like the sort of man who’d do that to his daughter, though. This was no leader who would live a life of comfort in a palace while countless men died for him. His eyes, so bright blue against his dark and weather-beaten skin, showed nothing but kindness and concern as he beheld Shiza and her sons. And those muscular arms, bared by his uniform…the thought crossed her mind that _she_ wouldn’t mind being this man’s mistress. 

_All right, stop that_ , she scolded herself. _Now you’re just being silly._

“I’m not sure,” Bato was saying. “We found this lady climbing down the mountain with her children, but she’s not telling me anything.”

The leader moved closer to her, and Shiza took a step backward out of instinct. 

“Ma’am? My name is Hakoda, and this is my daughter Katara,” the man said. He continued to look at the three of them, taking in the still-sobbing Zoren, Shiza’s own tearstained face and hair escaping from its bun, and Teza hiding his face in her skirts. “Are you all right?”

“ _Don’t you dare hurt my children!_ ” Shiza shrieked at him. She realized that she had nearly let herself be lulled into a sense of complacency by their front of sympathy. They were the enemy! 

“No one said anything about hurting your children,” Hakoda told her. His daughter looked at Shiza, then at Zoren, a glimmer of comprehension present in her eyes which was absent from her father’s.

“We just want to help you!” the girl added. To her disgust, Shiza felt herself starting to be swayed. All of her life, she had been told that the Southern Water Tribe was a backwards group of woman-hating barbarians who resented the Fire Nation for bringing innovation and prosperity to the rest of the world. However, she realized that she had _also_ been told all of her life that the Fire Lord was a wise and benevolent ruler for whom it would be an honor to die…and _that_ had proven to be a huge lie. Maybe if she told them the truth, that she was escaping the Fire Lord, they could help get her out of here, at least on the principle of “the enemy of my enemy is my friend?”

No. She couldn’t take that risk; couldn’t put the lives of her children on the line if these people proved untrustworthy.

“I don’t _need_ your help!” she informed them. She drew her now-bloodstained knife and brandished it at them. Hakoda, to his credit, did not flinch.

“Let her pass,” he instructed his men. 

Katara’s face fell. “But…”

“Katara, there’s no time. We have to keep moving,” Hakoda said sternly. Then, to his men, “Resume march.” And off they went, only Katara looking back.

Shiza resumed her run for freedom as well, but the eclipse occurred in its entirety a couple of minutes later. When Zoren bent over and threw up, she decided that even as desperate as their situation was, pushing him any farther during the eclipse would be inexcusable cruelty. 

She managed to find an abandoned battlement in which they could take shelter, and spent the remainder of the eclipse huddled with her children. 

“I messed up!” Zoren was wailing. Thankfully, they didn’t appear to be within anybody’s earshot. 

“Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t mess up,” she murmured in an attempt to calm him. 

“Y…yes I did!” Zoren insisted. “You said I was ‘posed to be _big_!” He dissolved into fresh tears. Right now, Shiza felt like the absolute worst person to have ever existed in the entire history of his planet. Well, maybe Ozai was actually the worst, but she was a close second.

“ _I’m_ the one who messed up. Not you,” she said. The trio stayed there until the sun began breaking free of the moon’s hold and Zoren’s tears died down a bit.

‘We’re going to have go quite a long way now,” Shiza warned her children. “And run some more. But then we’ll be on our boat, which will take us far, _far_ away from all this.”

The final leg of their journey took them across more rough terrain at the foot of the mountain, which eventually turned into first a dirt path, and then a paved road. The royal family’s private harbor was located a couple of miles away from the main one, and was nestled in towering cliffs to obscure it from prying eyes. Unless one was an experienced rock climber, the only way to access the harbor from land was by this road, with the entrance blocked off by a padlocked gate. This lock was opened via combination, which Shiza had memorized as she peeped through the curtains of her palanquin on one of her outings. Nearby, there was an equally locked-up building where some surplus war machines were kept. 

They were almost there! She could see the boats bobbing in the blue inlet. Her heart was pounding away, and her lungs felt like they were being shredded with every gasp of air she took. But their destination lay a couple hundred yards away, and she kept pushing on. She could taste the salt air now; they were so close…

And then, the overworked muscles in her legs gave out, and she tripped over her own skirts. She twisted to the side in an attempt to shield Teza from the fall, and in the process felt a pop in her ankle, followed by searing pain. 

Somehow, she managed to not cry out. Crumpled on the ground, she kicked off her boot to inspect the ankle, and saw that it was already swelling. She didn’t know enough about medicine to tell whether it was broken or merely sprained; either way, it was bad. Even the slightest movement sent a fresh stab of agony into her calf, and she didn’t even try to get the boot back on. Over and over again, she tried to get to her feet long enough to hobble to the gate, but was never able to move forward more than a step or two before she collapsed all over again. She had to resort to crawling the rest of the way, Zoren and Teza walking slowly to keep pace with her. 

They did reach the gate at long last, but she encountered a new obstacle: the padlock was only just within Shiza’s reach when she was standing on tiptoe, and required two hands to enter the combination. To unlock it, she’d have to stretch her arms up as far as they could go, while bearing all her weight on the toes of one foot. Perhaps the Princess Azula would have had the strength, agility, and balance to pull it off, but Shiza had not had that kind of athletic training. Her efforts simply caused her to topple over to one side, her body instinctively putting weight on her bad foot and making the pain even worse.

She sank down onto the ground, trembling from exhaustion and adrenaline, and fruitlessly pounded her fists against the gate. She’d been so close. They’d almost been free. And she’d failed at the last second. She’d been too proud to accept the help of the Water Tribesmen, and now she would pay for that with her life. A word that she’d never dreamed she would ever utter tore out of her throat: 

“ _FUCK!_ ” 

As of now, the area was still deserted, but she knew it would be a matter of time until the guards found them. And when they did…if she was lucky, they’d kill her on the spot. If she wasn’t, if Ozai had ordered that she be brought back alive, she didn’t even dare to think of what horrors he may have in store for her. 

She turned to her children. Just because she was going to die didn’t mean they had to.

“Zoren, listen to me. Take Teza and hide! And stay hidden no matter what you see!” 

Neither of her sons moved. 

“You two _do as you’re told right now_!” she cried. 

“No, Mommy,” Zoren answered, his voice soft yet steady. 

“We stay,” Teza added. 

Shiza was still trying to think up a way to persuade them to abandon her when she heard the sound she’d been dreading: footsteps. She sat up straight, squared her jaw, and positioned herself so that she was between her children and this assailant. Her fingers closed around the handle of her knife. Now that her death was imminent, she felt an eerie calm pervade her. She was determined to meet her fate with resolve and dignity, and would protect her sons to her last breath.

The footsteps belonged to a single hooded figure, unarmed and presumably male. He spotted them and started running over. All of Shiza’s muscles were tensed and waiting to strike. Maybe she still had a chance after all. If she could keep her knife hidden and stab this person in the gut as he grabbed her to take her back to the palace…

However, the clash for which she had braced herself never happened. To Shiza’s confusion, the unknown person stopped a few paces away from her. Rather than raising the alarm that he’d found the fugitives (as a guard would surely do), he put a finger to his lips, looked in every direction, and took down his hood. 

_It was Prince Zuko_. Zoren’s eyes lit up, and he rose in greeting, but Zuko shushed him as well. Shiza, on the other hand, could only stare at him dumbly. The knife slipped out of her fingers and landed on the pavement with a little _clank_. She had been so prepared for a struggle to the death that she had no idea what to think now. What was he doing all the way out here? It appeared that he hadn’t been sent to track them down; had he fled the palace as well?

She was snapped out of her daze as Zuko cleared his throat. He got a pained expression on his face as he looked downwards; following his gaze, Shiza noticed that her sleeve had slipped down her arm, revealing her burn scars. Out of habit, her other hand moved to cover them, even though she knew that there would be little point to doing this.

“Please, Prince Zuko,” she whispered as she finally found her voice. “Get your brothers to safety! Don’t bother with me.”

He looked dismayed at her words, and violently shook his head. Then he headed off to take care of the gate. Not bothering with the combination, he simply cut through the padlock bar with a fire dagger, opened the gate, and ran back to them. He winced as he saw Shiza’s swollen and now bruised ankle. 

“ _Can you walk_?” he mouthed. She shook her head. 

“I _told_ you not to…” she began, but he scooped her up into his arms anyway, knife and all. Her body shuddered as she recalled the time that Ozai had held her in much the same way. Zuko looked concerned, probably thinking that he’d hurt her, but she gestured that she was okay.

 _This is different_ , she told herself. She made herself relax, her body instinctively curling closer to his to seek out the soothing warmth of a firebender. Zuko carried her through the gates and onto the dock, Zoren and Teza following close behind. He hesitated here, until Shiza realized that he didn’t know which boat was hers. She quickly pointed him in the right direction. 

He stepped down into the _Izayoi_ with her, placing her in a chair. One by one, he picked the boys up around the waist and brought them in too. He got the mainsail and jib ready to hoist. Shiza was stunned at how expertly and quickly he did this, until she recalled that he was at sea for three years and had undoubtedly spent some time in sailboats. Even if he’d never done this himself, he would have seen it done up close. He even lit the auxiliary engine for good measure.

His eyes finally met hers, filled with the unspoken. He continued to hang around, looking unsure as to what to do next. She whispered one word.

“ _Go_.”

He nodded, untied the boat, and climbed back out of it as it pulled away from the dock, giving them one final look over his shoulder. Once Shiza steered them far enough away, she used the last of her strength to pull on the ropes that released the sails. The wind was coming from the south, which was exactly what she needed. As the air filled the large pieces of canvas, she collapsed onto the deck, holding her sons close. She’d refrained from crying while Zuko was carrying her because she didn’t want to get tears and snot all over his tunic, but now her tears flowed freely into their hair. The boat picked up speed and whisked them out of the harbor, and still she clung onto them, never wanting to let go. 

“I love you,” she sobbed. “I love you both so much.”

They’d done it. No matter what difficulties might await them, at least they were free. Shiza felt as if an enormous burden, one which she had been resigned to carrying forever, had been abruptly lifted off her shoulders. 

She saw a flash of color out of the corner of her eye, and turned her head to see a solitary war balloon rise into the air. Somehow, she knew that Prince Zuko was in it. Now he was free as well. She and her sons watched the balloon get smaller and smaller in the sky, as the winds carried them through the Strait of Azulon and towards hope.

**THE END**


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Implied rape and possible suicide attempt (I intentionally left it ambiguous).

**2 WEEKS LATER**

Shiza had initially thought that she was hallucinating when she saw land in the distance. At this point, her mental state was not the greatest. They had been even less prepared for this journey than she had initially thought. Rations were so short that she’d been consuming not much more than the bare minimum of food and water required to keep her alive, to ensure that her sons got enough. Sleep had similarly had to be snatched in tiny increments, only when she was certain that no other boats were nearby. And when she did permit herself to nod off, her slumber was plagued by nightmares. She always awoke wracked with guilt that she hadn’t tried to escape sooner or taken some of the other children with her. The question raced through her head as she saw her children thrashing around in their sleep from their own bad dreams: Had she done enough?

However, it soon became apparent that the land was, in fact, real…and it was definitely not the volcanic islands with which she was so familiar. Despite being half-delirious, as well as not great at reading maps, Shiza had managed to get her boat across the Mo Ce sea and into colonial waters. However, she couldn’t afford to celebrate just yet. It took another couple of days of sailing down the coast until they reached a small, shallow inlet. She hoped beyond hope that she’d found the right place; if she had been mistaken, she and her children might all die before they reached safety. But as she brought the _Izayoi_ in, her heart leapt as she saw a solitary figure waiting for them. _Rin_. Her letter had indeed reached its destination. 

Shiza beached the boat and hobbled through the shallows with her sons (she had accepted days ago that her ankle had little chance of ever healing properly). Her very pregnant sister ran up to them. Shiza fell into her arms as seafoam swirled around their ankles. 

“I’m sorry, Shiza,” Rin sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve protected you from him from the beginning, should have realized that your safety was more important than my damn pride!” Her voice cracked on this last word, and she paused to compose herself. “I promise I won’t fail you this time. I’ve been waiting here day and night since I got your letter. Wei and I will do everything in our power to help you and Zoren and Teza.” 

“They could throw both of you in jail,” Shiza pointed out, her voice hoarse from dehydration. 

Rin backed away and sniffled. “Let us worry about that. You three should only be focusing on resting and recovering; you look half-dead. Oh, and what happened to your ankle?! We’ll definitely have our doctor take a look at that.” She glanced down at Shiza’s bare and still heavily bruised foot.

“Okay. But first, take this,” Shiza said. She reached into the pouch she’d sewn on the inside of her robe like a pocket, reached in, and took out a familiar heavy mass of gold and gemstones.

Rin gaped. “That’s your…”

“Yes. That’s the first necklace that he gave me. Melt it down so nobody sees you with it, and then…sell the individual parts if you want. Or throw it away for all I care. I brought other jewelry I can sell. Just get it out of my sight…please!”

To her shame, her voice broke as well. However, Rin seemed to understand. She nodded and took the awful thing away from her.

Only after seeing that her sons were safely in the nursery along with Rin’s almost two-year-old daughter did Shiza allow herself to be taken care of. After two weeks of near-starvation at sea, even such heretofore trifling things as a hot bath and a bowl of plain noodles in broth felt like wanton luxuries, going above and beyond any of the sensual delights she had experienced at the palace. Then, after the doctor iced and bandaged her ankle and gave her pain medication, Shiza was shown to her room. She fell asleep almost immediately, cocooned in crisp linen sheets and secure in the knowledge that, come what may, she was currently truly safe for the first time since she’d arrived in the Caldera almost six years ago. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

These past fourteen days had been among the worst in Azula’s entire life. Father had long since recovered enough to resume his full duties, but he continued to ignore her. He refused to speak so much as one word to her. When she tried to look at him, he not only wouldn’t look back, he actively avoided her gaze. And always, Naoko was hovering near him, a look of satisfaction on her face that didn’t appear to be only of the emotional type. Mai and Ty Lee were acting oddly distant too. At least with Mai, that was understandable; she was all wrapped up in angst over Zuzu leaving her, after all. But Ty Lee…while normally it was easy for Azula to read her, what she was truly thinking remained elusive this time. 

Today, though, things were looking up. Father had let her into the war meeting, and she was delighted to find out that he was still going to use her plan to subdue the Earth Kingdom. He’d even given her credit for it, and gave her a little smile while doing so! And this evening, she’d finally gotten her banquet for preventing the Avatar from reaching Father. Everyone had bowed to her, just as they had on her twelfth birthday. She’d weathered the punishment, and she was certain that Daddy would call for her tonight.

Her assumption had been proven correct; she’d scarcely gotten back to her rooms when the knocks came on her door. Having not yet found a trustworthy replacement for Shiza to prepare her for these trysts, she dressed herself in the undergarments Daddy preferred and slipped an extra low-cut sleeping robe over it.

After Daddy permitted her to enter his bedroom, she strode on in with her head high…only to discover that someone else was already in there. A young girl, maybe eleven or twelve, was huddled at the foot of the bed. Azula had no recollection of seeing this girl ever in her life, so she decided she must be a servant. 

Eschewing any greeting, Daddy said, “We seem to be having a little predicament, Azula. This young lady doesn’t want to take her clothes off. Perhaps you can convince her otherwise.”

The girl looked at Azula with desperate eyes, silently pleading. It appeared that Azula’s punishment was being continued after all, just in a more private way.

“Do as he says,” she commanded flatly, shutting the door behind her.

**2 MONTHS LATER**

Mizuki had ended up spending a week in the hospital. She wasn’t sure that the doctors knew entirely what they were doing, but it was a nice rest and she found the support groups helpful. Once she was discharged, she started to do research on different schools as planned. However, before she could apply to any of them, the Crazy Train really started going.

First, about a month after the eclipse, an ominous letter from the palace arrived at their house; the courier hand-delivered it. It consisted of only one sentence:

 _Schedule for your return to the palace to be determined after the comet_.

Well, it could be worse. It appeared that there would be room for negotiation; perhaps she could delay it until the twins were weaned or even longer.

Then the comet was on its way, and Fire Lord was heading off to the Earth Kingdom to do a nice little bit of conquering. Except he wasn’t the Fire Lord anymore; he was the Phoenix King. Whatever. His ceremony was mandatory attendance for everyone in the Harbor District. Even the twins were there in their double baby carriage, faces shielded from prying eyes by floppy summer hats. Mizuki had been worried that going would trigger her, but at first it was okay. The Princess Azula was there, too, and she and the Fire Lord had a bit of an argument. Whatever it was got resolved quickly, though, and the Fire Lord proceeded to be crowned (such as it was) with the absolute stupidest helmet that Mizuki had ever had the misfortune of laying eyes upon. At least it was difficult for her to be traumatized when she was biting her lip from trying not to laugh.

Then stuff started to get weird. They had all been expecting that this farce would end with his leaving on one of the airships; instead, he turned back towards the Caldera. The entire crowd saw the Fi…Phoenix King grasping the upper arm of the Princess and saying something to her. Although Mizuki and the rest of the crowd were too far away to either hear what he said or make out facial expressions, they did see how Azula’s head drooped as she got back into her palanquin. Once the palanquins had left the royal plaza, everyone started murmuring in bewilderment. What was that all about?

Mizuki had a sickening feeling in her gut that she might indeed have a clue what “that” was about. During her time at the palace, she had heard some whispers speculating as to how close the Fire Lord and his daughter might actually be. When she, Mom, and Daichi got home, and the babies were snug in bed, Mizuki told Mom about her suspicions. She ended up crying herself to sleep in Mom’s arms.

 _Then_ , two days later, the comet made its grand arrival. That entire day, the twins were fussy and sneezing sparks everywhere. At sunset, when the comet made its closest approach, everyone tried to pay attention to the fireball in the sky, but that was difficult when they were simultaneously attempting to keep an eye on those huge pillars of orange and blue flame coming from the Caldera. (And was that _lightning_?!)

The next several days were a nightmare. People rioted in the streets, all public buildings were closed, and no one knew exactly what the fuck had happened. Slowly, however, things began to calm down. Eventually, they learned that: 1. The Phoenix King had been neutralized by the Avatar and stripped of his throne. 2. Princess Azula and Prince Zuko had fought in an Agni Kai, which Azula had lost, and 3. Prince Zuko had been crowned as the new Fire Lord. Just a couple of days after his coronation, he headed off to Ba Sing Se for a peace conference, leaving more questions than answers. Many of the details were still elusive, such as what had happened to Azula, and why they were so certain that the Fire Lord/Phoenix King/whatever he was called now was no longer a threat, and what this all meant for the general populace. Since Zuko had not been in the palace while Mizuki had worked there, he was as much an enigma to her as he was to everyone else. Even so, as long as he left Mizuki and her family _the fuck alone_ , she could tolerate him.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Naoko hadn’t thought that anything could be worse than the bunker, but she had been proven wrong. This was _much_ worse. She’d have thought that Azula would have been happy over being given the title of Fire Lord. Instead, she’d spent the entire day of her coronation banishing people left and right. So here Naoko was, along with Eri and ten of Eri’s half-siblings, hiding in the basement of the dorm to wait this out. (One notable absence was that of Ruanyu; she and her peasant mother had made a disappearing act the night before.) At least in the bunker, she’d had her own room. Now, she was stuck with all these brats, who were hyped-up from the comet and constantly squabbling and burning each other. And if Izumi made that stupid dying manatee-whale sound _one more time_ , Naoko was going to throttle her. Also with them were Zhilan’s husband and their eight-month-old son. The latter soiled his diapers at an alarming rate, so now on top of everything else, the whole room stank. 

For the entire night, they were stuck there. Naoko was starting to get the shakes. The time at which Azula was to be crowned came and went. They heard some alarming sounds coming from outside, but no one was brave enough to investigate. Then, things got eerily quiet. Usually, when a new Fire Lord was crowned, the festivities went on until dawn. Something had gone wrong. 

The second morning, Ichiro ventured out to get more supplies, and came back with the news that Azula had been defeated by the traitor Zuko in an Agni Kai. Well…that wasn’t the end of the world. Ozai would be back soon, and he would take care of things. They would continue to wait for him here.

Then, as it was getting towards evening again, there was pounding on the dorm’s front door. Naoko, Anshi, and Ichiro went up to investigate.

“Hello! Is anyone in there?” came a male voice from outside. It didn’t sound familiar, but maybe it was one of Ozai’s guards. Naoko flung open the door, fully anticipating that she would be having mind-blowing sex with her Phoenix King within minutes. Instead, she came face-to-face with a group of four kids, none of whom were Fire Nation. And was that…was that the Avatar?!

But…if the Avatar was alive…then that meant Ozai was…

Blind rage filled her, and she charged at them. She was pretty sure she could have taken them, shakes and all, but her traitorous cousins restrained her. 

“Give it up!” Anshi urged her. “There’s nothing more we can do right now.”

“THEY KILLED MY HUSBAND!” Naoko howled, squirming fruitlessly against Ichiro’s strong grip. Yes, technically she and Ozai weren't married, but these strangers didn’t need to know that.

All of the people of the group turned to look at the shortest member, who shook her head.

“Lying,” she said. _Shit_. 

“Uh…anyway, he’s not dead,” the tallest and apparently oldest member of the group said. “Loser Lord just arrived at the prison.”

How dare that impudent child address the Phoenix King as such?! Naoko continued struggling, trying to breathe fire at them. However, she’d never been good at doing that, and could only manage a few small puffs of flame. Eventually, the combination of exhaustion and alcohol withdrawal did her in, and she had no choice other than to let herself be led away.

All of the palace’s female inhabitants, down to the lowliest servants, were rounded up for medical treatment. Since the infirmary, where Azula was apparently being treated, was too small to hold all of them, a wing of the palace had been converted into a temporary part-hotel, part-hospital. Naoko was held there for a few days for detox. Like all the other girls and women, she and Eri were subjected to physical examinations of a very personal kind by a panel of female doctors, who found nothing out of the ordinary in either of them. People also attempted to interview Naoko, who sat in stony silence until they gave up. (So what if she’d had a child by Ozai? She’d been sixteen when she got pregnant. It was legal.) Eri was even given a pair of anatomically correct dolls to play with, in the hopes that she’d do something incriminating with them, which she didn’t. At long last, the doctors resigned themselves to the fact that they weren’t going to get any juicy details for their little investigation from them, and let them go…just in time for Zuko’s coronation. Naoko hid in her room and drew the curtains shut, but nothing could block the loud cheers coming from outside. 

The morning after the coronation, she was quite perplexed when she woke up to find herself back in the hospital wing. It was explained to her that she’d been found unconscious on the floor of her bedroom, empty bottles of sake surrounding her. 

They asked her if she’d intended to kill herself. She swore up and down that she hadn’t. Honestly, though, she couldn’t remember anything about that night, so she wasn’t sure either way.

**3 MONTHS LATER**

Over the next month, statues of the Not-Fire Lord were taken down, and not replaced with ones of the New Fire Lord as they’d all expected. The teachers at Daichi’s school read the classes a special announcement that denounced Ozai (which is what they’d finally decided to call him) as a war criminal. However, that was just the kiddie version. The grownups got to hear all the details of the huge ring of pedophiles at the Royal Palace, the leader of whom was the man himself. Everyone was so _shocked_ and _scandalized_ about this. Mizuki, on the other hand, was so not-surprised that she doubted it was humanly possible for anyone to be less surprised than she was. 

Also, much of the military was being dissolved. The good news was, Dad would be coming home soon. The bad news was that he might be out of a job. 

One autumn afternoon, Mizuki was balancing Akemi on her hip with one arm while dusting the windowsills with the other when she saw a palanquin in the palace’s colors pull up outside their house. She quickly pulled the curtains shut. Maybe if whoever was in there thought that they weren’t home, they’d go away.

No such luck. There came a knock on the door less than a minute later, and Mom went to answer it before Mizuki could stop her. She heard Mom gasp and say “Your Highness…”

Yep, there he was, the new Fire Lord, accompanied by a tall, thin girl around his (and therefore Mizuki’s) age. Mom started to bow to him, but he stopped her, holding his hands out and shaking his head with a mildly panicked expression. Mizuki put Akemi in the playpen with his sister, and walked up to the door wearing her best scowl.

“Go away,” she snapped. This Zuko must think himself so clever, telling everyone all about his father’s depravity, and then secretly taking the man’s concubines for himself. Her hopes of being left alone had been in vain.

“Mizuki!” Mom scolded. “Where are your manners?!”

“It’s hard to have manners when I’ve seen his father butt-naked,” Mizuki pointed out. Zuko made an odd sputtering sound, and looked like he’d just had a very small stroke. His companion, on the other hand, did not appear disturbed. Now that Mizuki was thinking about it, this girl seemed vaguely familiar. 

“W…we just wanted to talk with you,” Zuko managed to squeak out. 

“Well, _I_ don’t want to talk to _you_ ,” Mizuki said.

“Please excuse my daughter,” Mom said quickly. “She’s been through a lot.” 

“That’s okay,” said the Fire Lord’s friend. “I told him that they weren’t all going to welcome us with open arms. If you feel uncomfortable about this, we’ll leave.”

“You have every right to be angry,” Zuko added. “Mai and I just want to do all we can do to make things easier for you.” He glanced over at Mai, as if looking for approval, and smiled when she gave a little nod.

Well, he _sounded_ sincere. One thing was for certain: he was no smooth-talking sleazebag like his father.

“Okay,” she sighed. “You can come in.” Mom said something about making some tea, and slipped out of the room. 

“Well, make yourselves at home,” Mizuki said, gesturing to the low table and cushions in the middle of the living room. “Sorry the cushions don’t match. Daichi spilled tea on one of them a couple of years ago, and the store didn’t sell that kind anymore.” 

“I lived in the Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se for a month,” Zuko replied. “Mismatched cushions aren’t gonna be a problem. Trust me.”

They sat. Mom tiptoed into the room with the tea and left again just as quietly. The three of them sat there for a couple of minutes, sipping their tea, until Zuko took it upon himself to break the silence.

“So, um, I’m guessing we shouldn’t bother with titles in this case. My name is Zuko…even though you probably know that already…and this is my betrothed, Mai.”

Mai nodded. “We’ve met before. At the banquet.”

They had? Well, that would explain why she looked familiar. Mizuki looked at Mai until it dawned on her.

“You were the one who got mad when the F…Ozai called me a knife expert!” she blurted out. _Ugh. Mizuki, you really need to learn to keep your mouth shut_.

Mai, however, did not appear concerned by the breach of etiquette. “Yeah. I really shouldn’t have done that. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Mizuki replied automatically. It was weird, talking to a Fire Lord and future Fire Lady like they were peers, instead of…what was she to them? Stepmother, maybe? No, she’d never been married to Ozai; what did they call it in that case? Step-concubine? Ultimately, she settled for a rather lame-sounding, “I’m Mizuki.”

“We know,” Zuko said. “Fa…Ozai kept files of all the ladies he…uhh…well…you know…um…” He broke off and flushed deep red. 

“The ladies he got pregnant,” Mai finished for him. “It’s okay, Zuko. I know you’re nervous because this is the first one we’re doing, but we all know here that your dad couldn’t keep it in his pants and was raising his own little child army and/or harem. Perhaps we should just get to the point?”

“Good idea,” Zuko replied. “This is the part we practiced, anyway. So…like Mai just said, my father…couldn’t keep it in his pants. As Fire Lord, it is my job to make reparations to everybody who was hurt by this country’s former policies–so basically the entire planet. Fun. Then, when we finally got Ozai’s safe opened and saw all the horrible stuff that was in there, it was clear that it wasn’t just people in other countries that he was hurting. He’d preyed on so many girls that we decided we had to make reparations to them as well.”

“ _He_ decided that,” Mai corrected. “Zuko, you really need to start giving yourself credit for this stuff. We’ve talked about this before.”

“Fine. I decided it,” Zuko conceded. “We… _I_ …will personally pay for the upbringing and education of your children. They, and you, will be invited to all major events and family gatherings, and you and your family will be given lodgings at the palace whenever you want them. We’ll see to it that your father gets a new job. And _my_ father’s job offer for _you_ still stands. Well, not the bad parts, obviously, but we’ll keep a position open in the kitchens with chances for promotion. If you wanted to finish school first, I’ll write a note to the Fire Lady Ilah school ordering them to readmit you.” 

This Zuko really did appear to be a decent guy after all, Mizuki thought. It would be tempting to let him fix all of her problems as if he had waved a magic wand. But…there was a problem. 

“You are extremely generous,” she began carefully. “I am delighted that you consider my children to be family, and will accept funds in their name. As for Dad…that’s his decision to make, not mine. However, I cannot accept your job offer and note. If I do end up making it as a chef, I want it to be through my own merits and hard work, not just because some guy said it was okay.”

Mai looked at Zuko. “She has a point, you know. I think I like her.”

Zuko admitted, “I…I confess I never thought about it like that. Okay, then. Is there anything else you need, or wanted to ask?”

As a matter of fact, there was.

“I need to know the truth,” she said. “Was my winning the internship rigged?”

Her heart pounded as Zuko took a few seconds to think. 

“I don’t recall seeing anything about that in the file, no. And those files were really thorough.”

Mizuki’s whole body slumped over as she was flooded with relief. It actually had been her own talent that had gotten her there, and not simply Ozai’s whims!

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

“You’re welcome,” Zuko answered. “And…I also wanted to ask you something before we left. Is it all right if I can meet my brother and sister?”

He was really going all-out with this whole family thing, wasn’t he?

“Sure,” said Mizuki, walking over to the playpen and picking up the baby closest to the gate.

“This is Akane,” she said, depositing the baby into Zuko’s lap. “She’s teething, and likes shiny things, so please be mindful of jewelry and hairpieces. She _will_ put them in her mouth if you don’t stop her in time. And _this_..”–turning back to the playpen–“is Akemi. He likes being held, and is a champion spit-bubble blower…”

**8 MONTHS LATER**

To the surprise of absolutely no one, Zuko had proven to be a terrible Fire Lord. All of the colonies were in varying degrees of rebellion because he was allowing the equally incompetent Earth King and a thirteen-year-old boy to lead him by the nose. Millions of Fire Nation citizens were out of work due to the downsizing of the military. And he was absolutely refusing to let sleeping koala sheep lie with regards to his father’s sex life. This soft-hearted child was giving away bundles of money to any peasant girl who could craft a convincing sob story. And seeing as he was already spending like a drunken sailor on unnecessary reparations to the Earth Kingdom and Southern Water Tribe, it was an expense the crown could ill afford. 

One thing he was keeping quiet on for the moment was the whereabouts of Azula. She had vanished into some institution or other, and there were whispers about what had really happened to her before her would-be coronation. Some even said that she was pregnant. ( _By whom_?, said the annoying little voice in Naoko’s head. _BY WHOM_?)

Zuko had also made sweeping changes within the court itself. He’d kicked out many of the members of Ozai’s council, although Naoko’s father had been among the ones who had kept their jobs. Dr. Huang had been stripped of his medical license and banished from the palace. Perhaps the most unpopular change of all was that Zuko had placed a flat ban on anything stronger than plum wine being served at dinner. He never explicitly said that this was because of Naoko, but everyone knew it anyway. 

At any rate, she had been (mostly) sober for months now, and she once again had a purpose in life. Two weeks ago, Father had told her that he had a special mission for her. He’d given her no details except that she should be prepared to do public speaking. Naoko had taken courses in rhetoric at the Royal Fire Academy, so she thought this shouldn’t be a big deal.

They’d traveled back to the Shuhon estate, and in the basement of the house, a delightful surprise had awaited. The room was full of Fire Nation flags and emblems, and a portrait of the true Fire Lord hung in a place of honor at the front of the room. Underneath the portrait was a podium where speeches could be given. Naoko saw many familiar faces in the crowd of people taking their seats, including ex-Dr. Huang and Lord Ukano. Father ascended the stage, and waited for the people to all be seated and quiet.

“Welcome, everyone. I would like to introduce the New Ozai Society to my daughter Naoko as the first order of business today,” he said to the crowd. He pointed at the podium. “Naoko, perhaps you would like to say a few words?”

As she mounted the steps to join Father, Naoko was briefly worried that she might blank out in front of everyone. However, the words ended up coming to her as easily as if the spirits had provided them.

“I met Ozai when I was thirteen,” she began. “He was only a prince then, and a second son at that. But I took one look into his eyes, and I knew immediately that he was destined for great things.”

She recounted a somewhat sanitized version of the years they’d spent together: how they’d often talk and laugh late into the night; the delight that had been in Ozai’s eyes when he’d held Eri for the first time; the quiet time they’d spent together as he had recovered from his back injury. There were enough stories to tell that she doubted anyone noticed the periods of time that she’d omitted entirely. 

“Ozai was a powerful and decisive ruler; a great Fire Lord,” she concluded. “He would have been a great Phoenix King as well, if his position hadn’t been usurped. I say that it’s high time we dispose of the whining manchild who calls himself Fire Lord and get our _rightful_ ruler put back on the throne!” 

The crowd gave her a huge round of applause. As he led Naoko off the stage, Father said that he was very proud of her, and that she’d been one of the best speakers they’d had yet! Now that she’d been fully accepted into the group, she could begin the special role they’d made just for her. 

Today, there would be no huge pile of hair or flashy clothing. Instead, Naoko chose modest robes and had her maidservant arrange her hair into an unassuming half-topknot. It was no secret that she made regular trips to the prison. She had even applied for conjugal visits, although her request had been turned down immediately. Today, however, it would be a good idea not to draw too much attention to herself. 

When her palanquin arrived at the tall and imposing building, a guard escorted her down the dark and dusty hallways. From experience, Naoko knew to lift her hemline up so that it didn’t get absolutely filthy. 

Upon reaching her destination deep in the bowels of this fortress at long last, she saw that her customary stool had already been set up outside the cell door. She gave a deep bow to the cell’s occupant (this space was too cramped for a full kowtow), and settled herself on her seat. The guard retreated back a little. 

Naoko knew not to ask how Ozai was doing, since that would only make him angry. Instead, she started by saying, “My Phoenix King. I trust that my parcel made it to you safely?” She had sent him another drawing of Eri, done on her daughter’s fourth birthday last week. 

“I did,” Ozai confirmed. “Beautiful.”

“And you know why I’m here today?” she continued. He nodded. 

Naoko’s new job was that of messenger. Father had said that the New Ozai Society had been having trouble finding a way to reliably communicate with their ruler. The hope was that Naoko, who was already a known visitor of Ozai, could more easily slip correspondence into and out of the prison. She reached into her bag, and took out a sheet of paper and writing supplies. Leaning closer to the bars, so it would be harder for the guard to see what she was doing, she murmured, “What message do you have to give to your supporters today?”

He started dictating, and she put brush to paper and began to write. 

**1 YEAR LATER**

Once Shiza had gotten her bearings, she and her sons had boarded a train to the colonial province of Yu Dao...or, more specifically, to the colony’s eponymous capital city. It had been Rin who recommended that destination since it was one of the most progressive of the Fire Nation’s holdings (Shiza had heard Ozai complain about “those fucking Yu Dao liberals” more than once). An unwed mother would not attract talk there like it would in the home islands or many of the newer colonies. Also, Yu Dao City was one of the most populous in the colonies, so hopefully it would be easier for them to disappear into the crowds. Shiza had taken on the assumed name of Rina, but had decided that it wasn’t feasible to change her sons’ names.

Settling in wasn’t easy. The first couple of weeks, they’d had to stay in a sucession of cheap inns, and subsisted solely on takeout. However, Shiza was eventually able to secure a nice enough rental house by using the money Rin gave her and selling some of her jewelry. Knowing that people might start getting suspicious if she sold any more of it, she squinted through job postings in the newspaper until she secured a position at a combination day spa and beauty salon, which had a daycare on the premises. Although she knew she was fortunate indeed to have found such a good match for her somewhat limited skill set, the fact remained that balancing a job and full-time motherhood was _exhausting_. She’d thought she’d been involved in her children’s lives before, but now she had no nurse to rely on if she was having a bad day. And there were so many chores that she had to do for the first time! Her initial attempts at cooking were not for the faint of heart (especially that time she sliced off her fingertip while trying to cut into a winter squash). The first time she successfully prepared an edible meal of komodo chicken, rice, and vegetables, she thought it just might have been the greatest accomplishment in her entire life other than giving birth. 

There was also cleaning to deal with; she was amazed at how quickly clutter and dust and various cooking spills piled up when there weren’t servants to put stuff away and do the heavy cleaning. The garbage was even more agonizing to deal with; it seemed as if it would start to smell bad if she so much as looked in its general direction. Their house always seemed to resemble a pig-chicken sty, no matter how hard she tried to keep up. 

At least the kids were adjusting about as well as one could expect. After a setback from the stress of their escape and move, Teza had finally completed his toilet training. He was smiling and talking more, and even had a couple of classmates that he liked to play with. Zoren, of course, made friends with nearly all of the children in his class almost immediately. Unfortunately, in his desire to be liked, Zoren had trouble keeping his mouth shut about their past life in the palace. A few weeks into the school year, the teacher called her in for a conference.

“Zoren is a sweet boy and a great helper in the classroom,” the teacher said. “However, we are concerned that he’s getting too fixated on his imaginary stories about the royal family.”

That evening, Shiza and Zoren had a discussion about how their life in the palace was a secret, just between him and her and Teza. Zoren sulked until bedtime, but did start speaking about it a lot less. 

They had just gotten into a tolerable routine when the shakeup after Sozin’s Comet happened. Now Zuko was Fire Lord. Shiza knew that he’d welcome her back to the palace, but she wasn’t mentally prepared to return yet. Besides, she liked Yu Dao. The architecture was beautiful, and the people were nice. A man who lived down the street from Shiza and her children even asked her out on a date. His name was Jinhai, he was in his late twenties, had recently been divorced, and had a six-year-old daughter, of whom he shared custody with his ex-wife. Shiza had met him when she’d pounded on his door in a panic, hands full of unpaid bills. Her math was even worse than her reading was, and he had happened to be the first neighbor who had been at home when she looked for help. He’d been very patient with her as he helped her add and subtract the daunting numbers, and hadn't asked any questions.

Shiza, of course, had never been on a date before. The idea of just _doing_ something with a potential love interest that wasn’t inevitably a prelude to sex seemed alien to her. But she liked him, so she accepted the offer and got a babysitter lined up for the kids. 

They had a nice evening out at a teashop. Jinhai had even walked her back to her house. Then he’d leaned in a bit as if to kiss her, and she’d panicked and cried out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just got out of a really bad relationship…” she babbled, fearful that she’d ruined everything and waiting for Jinhai to get angry at her. But he didn’t.

“Whoa, it’s okay if you don’t want to kiss!” he’d said. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Rina. If you don’t want to, then we won’t do it.” She’d thought for certain that he’d want nothing more to do with her, only to be surprised when he asked her out again the very next week. The teashop became a weekly tradition for them. Jinhai made no further attempts to kiss her, leaving it to Shiza to initiate…which she did, finally, a few months later. It was soft and gentle, and so unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. 

Then, just as things were going so well, reality reared its ugly head once again. Zuko’s attempts to move all people of Fire Nation ancestry back to the home islands were stirring up unrest in Yu Dao. The established residents of the city were increasingly viewing any new arrivals as potential agents of the Fire Lord and his friends. Shiza had heard stories at work of houses being vandalized and even broken into. There had been no actual escalation to physical violence yet. Nevertheless, she wasn’t sure she wanted to risk waiting around for it to inevitably happen when the safety of her children was at stake. 

And then, on top of all that, Zoren had had a huge blowup, the likes of which Shiza had never seen from him before. It had started off as a relatively minor dispute over some mismatched clothes he wanted to wear to school, but quickly escalated.

“ _I HATE YOU_!” he had shouted. “I liked Dorm, and the palace, and Prince Zuko, and Platty, and you _took it all away_!”

The look of rage in his eyes, despite her never having seen it on Zoren, was something with which Shiza was very familiar, and she backed away from him. She’d managed to keep her composure just long enough to order him to his room; it would obviously be futile to try to get him to school today. Then, after making sure that Teza was occupied, she shut herself into her own room and broke down. 

She’d been hoping that Zoren’s silence on their former life had meant that he was forgetting it. Instead, he’d been keeping all his emotions locked inside until they exploded. It couldn’t have been easy for him, knowing that he was telling the truth while his teacher kept insisting that it was all in his head. Poor boy. As she calmed down, she thought that, at the very least, he deserved an explanation for why his life had been uprooted. 

That evening, after she put Teza to bed, she told Zoren that they were going to have a “grown-up talk.” She prepared cups of his favorite mint tea for both of them, and even got the jar of honey out and told her older son to put as much in as he liked. He ended up dumping out about half of the jar, much of which ended up on the table, but Shiza chose to overlook that.

She began by saying that this was a secret between the two of them, that not even Teza would know for the time being. Zoren, while still rather sullen and not meeting Shiza’s gaze, couldn’t resist the allure of that.

“When I was fourteen, my sister and I were sent to the palace. Do you remember why?” she began.

“Yeah. To do Princess Azula’s hair,” Zoren replied. Shiza had told him the story of her journey to the Caldera many times, and he was obviously wondering what that had to do with anything.

“Well, now you get to hear the rest of the story,” Shiza told him. “The very first night I was there, the Fire Lord saw me, and…and decided that he wanted to have babies with me.” It was a tough balancing act, producing a retelling that was both age-appropriate and accurate. 

Zoren thought about this. Finally, he inquired, “Where’re the babies? I didn’t see any.”

Shiza gave a little smile. “You and Teza were the babies.” She’d decided to not actually use the word “father” unless Zoren made the connection himself. If he had, however, he kept it to himself. 

“I had you, and then I had Teza, and I was so, so happy,” she went on. “But I became sad because the Fire Lord only cared about children who could do things for him. And then…you showed that you were good at firebending, and he wanted to keep you all to himself. He…he was going to take you away from me. Forever. So I had to get you out of there.”

Zoren’s eyes went big as he looked at Shiza for the first time this evening. “ _Forever_?” he breathed. After that, he said nothing further for several minutes. Shiza sat there quietly as well, giving him as much time as he needed to process all this. 

After he drank most of his cup of highly-sweetened tea, he admitted, “He always had a frowny-face on. And I didn’t like when he made ‘Zumi cry. I told Anshi that he was a meanie, but she just said _SSSHHHH_!” He put his finger to his lips to demonstrate.

“You were right,” Shiza said. “He is a meanie. A big old dumb meanie. And now his frowny-faced butt is in jail where it belongs.” 

She made Zoren giggle a little with her use of semi-forbidden language. He made a little _hmm_ , gulped down the rest of his now-lukewarm tea, and pointed out, “Prince Zuko’s the Fire Lord now. He won’t take me away forever.”

He was right, of course. Shiza, after staying up most of the night thinking, decided that it was time for her to face her fears. The next morning, she talked to Teza while preparing him for daycare to see if he was okay with going back, since she knew he hadn’t had an easy time of it those last couple of months.

“You won’t have to go to the dorm anymore,” she vowed as she fastened the frog closures on his tunic. “And we’ll get to see the turtleducks again. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Teza nodded, but remained silent.

Shiza hastily assured him, “If you really don’t want to go, then that’s okay. We’ll just have you stay with Aunty Rin and Uncle Wei for a while. You had lots of fun playing on the beach with Cousin Kyo when we were there last time, remember?”

“No. I wanna go see the turtleducks,” Teza decided. Over the next several weeks, Shiza asked him about it again multiple times to make sure he hadn’t changed his mind, but he never did. So that was that.

She waited a couple of months for their lease to run out. Then she gave her two weeks’ notice at work, (which was just as well since she was already in trouble for not calling in sick on the day of Zoren's meltdown), packed up, and purchased boat tickets for the trip home. She hoped that she could get Zoren started with his formal education once there, and hire a servant to help her improve her housekeeping skills. Her ultimate goal was to return to Yu Dao permanently in a year or two, after this whole mess died down, and knew she’d have to come clean to Jinhai at that point. She’d only told him part of the truth: that she’d decided to move back to the home islands due to the recent animosity against newly-arrived Fire Nation natives. Would he even like her anymore after he found out she’d been lying to him this whole time? She wasn’t sure. Right now, though, she had to focus on doing what was best for her children. 

So here they were, at the palace again. She had been prepared to have to explain things to the guards at the outermost gates. However, they opened the gates to her before she could say anything. 

“We’ve been expecting you. Welcome back,” one of them said. 

Shiza and her sons were taken into the building and shown into the Fire Lord’s middle antechamber. She noted that the display of sake bottles had been removed, as well as a lot of the military-themed imaging that had once adorned the walls. After they’d only been waiting a short time, the doors flung open and the young Fire Lord and his fiancée rushed into the room. Cries of _Where_ were _you_? and _We were looking everywhere for you!_ and _I missed you guys so much!_ and _Prince Fire Lord Zuko! Guess what?! I’m five now!_ filled the room. Zoren flew into Zuko’s arms, and even Teza allowed his older half-brother to embrace him. Mai, who was actually smiling, gave Shiza a little half-hug.

“Impeccable timing,” she remarked. “We needed something good to happen for once.”

There was obviously a long story behind Mai’s statement, but Shiza didn’t want to think about it right this moment. Today was for reunions and happiness. The palace had never truly been home for her before. Perhaps now, it could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp* *wheeze* It's finally over! I'm still hoping to post some bonus stuff at some point, but I might need to take a break from writing for a while. (But it's supposed to snow on Sunday, so IDK, maybe I'll get bored and write anyway.)


	14. Bonus Features

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some references, notes, and a short deleted scene.

**LIST OF OZAI'S ACKNOWLEDGED BASTARDS**

1\. Anshi (F) (b. Aug 77)*  
2\. Ichiro (M) (b. Jan 80)*  
3\. Zhilan (F) (b. May 82)*  
4\. Izumi (F) (b. Aug 86)*  
5\. Kenzo (M) (b. Nov 87)*  
6\. Ruanyu (F) (b. Feb 89)*  
7\. Uzeko (F) (b. Jan 90)*  
8\. Tatsuya (M) (b. Jul 91)  
9\. Zhuang (M) (b. Nov 92)  
10\. Lanying (F) (b. Jul 93)*  
11\. Azen (M) (b. May 94)*  
12\. Zoren (M) (b. Jan 96)*  
13\. Nozomi (F) (b. Apr 96)*  
14\. Raizu (M) (b. Sept 96)  
15\. Eri (F) (b. Mar 97)*  
16\. Teza (M) (b. May 97)*  
17\. Honoka (F) (b. Oct 97)  
18\. Peizhi (F)(b. Jun 98)  
19\. Fuyuko (F)(b. Dec 98)  
20\. Akane (F) (b. Mar 100)  
21\. Akemi (M) (b. Mar 100)

(asterisk=lives in dorm and/or palace)

**A NOTE ON DATES/AGES**

For some reason, when I started on this series in 2014, I was sure that I remembered reading that Azulon died in 94 AG. But apparently it was actually in 95 AG??? Welp, too late to fix that now. Thus, in this story and series, Ozai’s reign began in the fall of 94. (I do give a bit of side-eye to Bryke for claiming that Ozai’s reign was the shortest ever for a Fire Lord, like really? Fire Lords have been around for centuries, and none of them were babies born posthumously who only lived a few days, or people who were already in poor health upon being crowned, or people who met with “accidents” early on? I’m not buying it.)

And as far as I remember, the wikia didn’t have an official age for Ozai in 2014, so I made him be in his early forties during the events of canon. But apparently he was actually like 48 or something. I’m not buying that either. My rule of thumb is: if Bryke try to math, I ignore it if possible.

So with that in mind, here are some birthdates so everyone can know how old all the main characters are in any given moment of the story:

Ozai: November 58 AG

Naoko: September 79

Shiza: February 80

Zuko: December 21, 83

Mizuki: January 84

Mai: January 85

Azula: October 31, 85 (Yep, she was born on Halloween! She’s certainly scary enough for that. LOL)

**HOW IT ALL STARTED**

I originally got the idea for this story as I get many ideas…while listening to Pokemon music on Youtube. (I think the exact music was the Pokemon Stadium Gym Leader theme.) But this happened shortly before bedtime, so I couldn’t do much about it then. And I think it was the very next day that Death_Rattle commented asking if I was going to write more Ozai x Azula stuff. And I was like, “Um…um…(crap, I don’t want to disappoint them!)…well, there was this idea I got last night…?” And then I was like, “Kirby, why did you say that? You’re not going to be able to write this!” And I answered myself, “Well, you wrote Into Open Waters when you thought there was no way you were going to finish it, so maybe give it a chance?”

So I decided that I might as well make an outline. And then I decided that since I had an outline, I might as well start trying to write the damn thing. And…well, it’s not to me to judge whether it’s any good or not, but I did end up finishing it!

 **STORY-SPECIFIC NOTES** (In no particular order)

Mostly random stuff from the later chapters that I didn’t put as ending notes because I didn’t want to diminish the dramatic impact of the end of the chapters…or that I just forgot.

\- This story was very much a product of the year 2020, and I ended up using it to process a lot of my emotions about current events more and more as the story went on. People/events in the FLDS also provided inspiration.

-I’m not saying that the concept of no two firebenders being affected in the same way by the eclipse was inspired by COVID-19…but okay, yes, it was. 

-The reason that Naoko kept miscarrying was that she was Rh negative…if that wasn’t clear from the story. IRL, we do have a treatment for it, but it wasn’t invented until the 1960s and still isn’t always available in poorer countries.

\- While working on Chapter 12, I had this insight that maybe Shiza looks a little like Ursa, and that maybe Ozai saw her as a version of his wife who was much younger, more docile and naïve, and less-educated due to learning disabilities that weren’t properly addressed. But I admonished myself that it was too late to put that in, and if I wanted it to be a plot point, I should’ve thought of it earlier. Grrr. All I managed to put in was some very vague hints of it during Shiza and Ozai’s office confrontation. 

-The ash banana cake at the beginning of Shiza III was a reference to the fact that I made a banana cake myself to destress after I wrote the Agni Kai scene in Shiza II. (I had to listen to many of the lines of dialogue from that scene in the show multiple times in order to get Mark Hamill’s intonation just right.) No esoteric symbolism there!

-Yeah, I had two characters thirsting over Water Tribe guys and their uniforms. Sue me. :P I found those uniforms to be very distracting during my rewatch. 

-In my original outline, Shiza actually stole a tank and got down the mountainside that way. But my research indicated that tanks take a lot of muscle strength to operate, plus wouldn't manuever well on that zig-zag mountain road, so that idea was dropped quickly.

-I also originally intended Mizuki to accept Zuko’s job offer and/or note, but I realized, “Kirby, you dumbass, that would invalidate her entire character arc! Plus, one Zuko Ex Machina is quite enough for this story.”

-Mizuki’s thought that “maybe the furniture is pregnant” was inspired by a comment on a Youtube video by user Ozzy Fan_girl. (In case anyone is interested, the video was a documentary from the UK about a family where two teenage sisters, as well as the family dog, were pregnant at the same time.)

-I feel like I have to apologize for the inconsistency in formatting across the story; as I mentioned before, AO3 formatting is a bitch. I also never realized until I wrote this story how excruciating the matters of past tense vs past perfect tense and colon vs comma vs semicolon vs ellipses vs dash could be. And always, there are the Evil Redundant Words of Redundancy and “Aw fuck, this chapter has the word ‘but’ in it 94 times.” (That last part was not an exaggeration, BTW.) Well…I tried. 

**AU AND POST-ENDING MUSINGS**

(Disclaimer: These are just some ideas I thought were cool. If you like them too, great! If you thought of other ones on your own, also great! Death of the Author and all that.)

Of course, I could not help but to wonder…what would have happened if Shiza had accepted Hakoda and Katara’s help? Unfortunately, I don’t think it would’ve been very good for her. Appa’s saddle seemed really full, so while I think Zoren and Teza may have been able to be squeezed on there, I don’t think they’d have had room for Shiza. She would likely have ended up in prison with everyone else when they surrendered. Whether she’d be sent to the Boiling Rock, or kept in the palace because Ozai had Special Plans for her, I’m not certain, but I’d lean towards the latter. (That would also mean angst on Zuko’s part when he and Sokka got to the Boiling Rock and didn’t manage to find her.) Meanwhile, at the Western Air Temple, both the kids would have been deeply traumatized by the loss of their mother. Teza would have basically BSOD’ed, and Zoren would refuse to obey anyone until Zuko got there (which in turn might have affected the Gaang’s reaction to him during “Hi, Zuko here.”) Overall, I feel like it was good that things turned out the way they did in the story, although the idea of Hakoda doing Dad Things with Zoren and Teza once he got out of Boiling Rock is appealing.

Also, no matter how much I tried to keep the relationship between Zuko and Shiza wholesome and sibling-like, my lizard brain kept saying, “Okay, but when are they gonna bang??” I feel like there would be some level of sexual tension between them once Mai broke up with Zuko, but if he and Shiza did start kissing or something, they’d realize it was a terrible idea and stop before they actually had sex. (Sorry, Lizard Brain.) And anyway, Maiko is endgame in my ficverse.

So…what becomes of our OCs, then? I imagine that Shiza would live to be very old, and lead a quiet life in the United Republic. She’d become good friends with Ursa, though, and keep in touch via letters and also by phone once it was invented. I even got the idea of Shiza being the great-grandmother of Mako and Bolin on their mother’s side via a child she had with Jinhai. (This was inspired by another fic I heard about where Ozai was their grandfather via an illegitimate child, but I didn’t want to go _that_ far.) Teza would always live nearby her, but Zoren would opt to move permanently to the palace as an adult. I think that he’d visit Ozai in prison to confront him once he was old enough to realize the full magnitude of what Ozai had done to Shiza. (Maybe early to mid teens?) I also like the idea of Zoren marrying Kiyi.

Sadly, I don’t see poor Naoko living much past age 30, if that…what she got herself wrapped up in is very dangerous, and I feel that the members of the New Ozai Society (including her own father) would think nothing of “disposing” of her once she outlived her usefulness or became a liability. But Eri would live a long life, and would be a great lady at court just like her namesake, loyal to Ozai for her entire life. (Her logic would be something like, “Well, _I_ have nothing but positive memories of him, so obviously everyone else claiming to have been abused by him is lying about it.”

I’ve already mentioned in a Short Story that Mizuki ultimately becomes the head pastry chef at the palace…which she accomplished on her own, just like she wanted. She holds this job for decades before happily retiring. Although she may get married later in life, I don’t see her as being interested in having more children. I wasn’t able to give the twins much in the way of personality when they were babies, but I’ve had thoughts of them maybe doing a choregraphed firebending/dance routine together.

**DELETED SCENE**

(This was cut from Shiza III. I got about 300 words in before I realized that it wasn't going to work because it was basically just an awkward exposition dump. But I thought I might as well finish writing it separately, especially since one reader was asking about what makes Ozai tick in this story.) 

Shiza stood as still as a statue, scarcely allowing herself to even breathe. After the fiasco at Azula’s betrothal banquet tonight, she had decided to disregard etiquette, and ran while everyone was distracted. She had never seen Ozai this angry before…not even when he burned her wrist. Was he out-of-control enough to kill someone on sight if they happened to annoy him with their existance? Shiza didn’t want to find out. So here she was, hiding in this old dusty cabinet in this seldom-used room where a bunch of old plaques and awards were kept.

Her heart leapt into her throat when the door opened and two men walked into the room, but to her relief neither man was Ozai. The elder one was some government official or other, whose name was on the tip of Shiza’s tongue. The younger one she’d never seen before. She guessed that he must be the older guy’s secretary or something, new to court. 

“Are you sure we’re alone in here?” the younger guy asked. 

“Of course we are, Jiao-Long,” the older guy said quite condescendingly. “That cabinet is the only place where someone could be hiding, and no adult could ever fit in there.”

Shiza had never been as grateful of her petite stature as she was now. 

“So…does this sort of thing happen often here?” Jiao-Long inquired. 

“He’s never lost control of himself to this extent during his reign as Fire Lord, no,” the older man replied. “But this wasn’t uncommon behavior of him during his youth. He was a terrible child. Colicky as a baby, and it only got worse from there. He’d flip over Pai Sho boards when he lost a game, scream in public, destroy other people’s property, bite and scratch anyone who tried to get near him during his tantrums…just awful. Anything would set him off. And if I may speak bluntly, the late Fire Lord and Fire Lady, Agni keep them, didn’t have a clue what to do with him.”

Jiao-Long winced. “Are you sure no one is listening, Admiral Chan?”

Oh. That’s who Older Guy was. He spent so much time at Ember Island that sometimes Shiza forgot that he existed.

“I’m positive,” Chan replied. “Now where was I? Ah yes. His conception wasn’t anticipated or even particularly wanted, and I think some part of him knew that from birth. Whenever he acted out, his parents would just send him off to some country house so they wouldn’t have to think about him. But then when he was at the palace, they’d buy him anything he asked for to ward off tantrums. He never really had a chance. And then…there was the incident with Lady Ziran that sealed his fate.” 

“Prince Iroh’s wife?” Jiao-Long asked. Despite his former hesitation, he appeared to be unable to resist the juicy gossip. 

“Yes. So unfortunate that she died at such a young age. She arrived at court when she was sixteen, when the betrothal paperwork had been done but not yet announced publicly. We all loved her. She was kind to everyone…even Ozai. And, miracle of miracles, he started being civil to her in return, and a little calmer in general. He even actively sought out her company. I was a new arrival at court myself at the time, and saw how all this went down. People were thinking that someone had finally made a breakthrough, that Ozai had turned a corner and outgrown his childhood anger problems. But then, when he was eleven, Ziran’s betrothal to Prince Iroh was announced at a dinner…and Ozai lost it. No one knew for sure what was going through his head; perhaps he had assumed that he was going to be the one betrothed to Ziran. In any case, he lunged at her, held a fire dagger at her throat, and started screaming at the top of his lungs. He would likely have killed her had the guards not gotten to him in time and dragged him off her. He was confined to his rooms for weeks after, until they figured out what to do with him. Absolutely unacceptable behavior. He completely disgraced himself, and his father never fully trusted him for the rest of his life.”

There was a pause, as if Admiral Chan was reliving that night. Finally, Jiao Long prompted, “So what happened then?”

“He was sent away from court for more than three years. Then, on his fifteenth birthday, he sailed off to take his turn searching for the Avatar. He spent two years doing that, with that odious Zhao whispering poison into his ear at every possible moment. When he got back, he had changed; he was quieter, more deliberate. Fire Lord Azulon thought that the experience had tempered the prince, but he was only partially right. It was true that he had better control of himself on the surface, but he’d simply found more private ways to vent his anger. And now that he’s Fire Lord, he doesn’t even have to do that anymore. He has his circle of supporters, and as long as he looks the other way at their misdeeds, they will reciprocate.”

“Well, if he’s so dangerous, then why don’t we…?” Jiao Long began, trailing off as Admiral Chan made an abrupt slashing motion in the air.

“Don’t you dare even think something like that!” the older man hissed. “You want to get us both killed? I might not approve of what the Fire Lord does in his personal life, but his policies are going to take this nation to heights of greatness that it’s never seen before!”

“Um…but…” protested the obviously confused Jiao Long. Finally, he threw up his hands. “ _Okay_.”

“Good lad,” Admiral Chan replied. “Now let’s leave. People will start to wonder whether I went.”

They walked out of the room and closed the door, leaving Shiza alone in the dark once again.

Well. So that left her with a lot to think about. She was aware that Admiral Chan was not a completely unbiased source…everyone at court knew that he’d been furious that Ozai had betrothed Azula to Zhao instead to one of Chan’s own sons. But from the little Shiza had seen of him, he didn’t seem like too horrible of a guy. He wasn’t part of Ozai’s circle of pedophile drinking buddies, after all. So she thought that his recounting was likely accurate. 

It was no secret that Ozai didn’t consider his childhood to be a happy one; he’d tell just about anyone who would listen about how unfairly he had been treated. And it appeared that there was actually some truth to that. However, this revelation didn’t make Shiza feel any more sympathetic towards him. As someone who had been a little emotionally neglected by her own parents, she knew that everyone in this situation had a choice: break the cycle, or continue it.

Ozai had made _his_ choice long ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to put the photos that I used as references for the OCs, but once again couldn't figure out the HTML coding crap.
> 
> Oh, and anyone else is welcome to use my OCs if they want to. In fact, I left a lot of wiggle room in the story for that purpose. Or they could be adapted into other ficverses. Just remember to credit me for making them!


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